


31 Days

by Delllonggone



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: 31 Days of Wayhaven, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 73,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delllonggone/pseuds/Delllonggone
Summary: Following the daily prompts of 31 Days of Wayhaven from tumblr featuring my detectives, Evangeline, Mia, Juniper, and Leigh.
Relationships: Female Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Felix Hauville, Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Comments: 34
Kudos: 60





	1. Sharp- E/A

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1- Sharp  
> Evangeline Windsor/Adam Du Mortain

  1. Sharp



Evangeline had long since been accustomed to all things sharp.

Words, knives, barbed wire, needles, pain, minds, and wit.

Even as the word rolled over her tongue the word itself felt sharp.

And though Evangeline normally danced on a razor’s edge of anger and happiness, the sharp points of the emotions that warred within her, today was different.

As Evangeline stared at the spines of a cactus, small, spotted and green on her desk, Evangeline felt decidedly  _ soft _ .

Adam stood above the plant (dwarfed in his hands but moments before), also sharp. Jawlines, clean lines, and impeccable attire. If Evangeline really focused, sometimes the edges of him world blur and soften, revealing the self he hid behind the rigid wall of centuries of Agency training. Which led her to this moment, trailing her gaze from the round cactus to Adam’s face, tinged slightly pink and looking away from her with his arms crossed behind his back.

“Good morning Adam. Why is there a cactus on my desk?” Evangeline asked. 

Adam took a measured breath in through his nose before he faced Evangeline, void of expression.

“ _ Echinocereus triglochidiatus _ .”

“Gesundheit.” 

Adam’s eyes sliced to Evangeline’s. Though his body remained stern she could see the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth for just a moment. His green eyes betrayed his cold exterior.

Evangeline grinned. Adam cleared his throat and looked down at the cactus he had placed on her desk.

“It is a replacement. For breaking Detective Poname’s gift to you earlier. I thought this would be a suitable replacement for your office. Though it does not negate my earlier error.”

She blinked up at him for a moment, brain spinning to process the information. She had absolutely forgotten that he had knocked over Tina’s gift several days ago, too focused on their missions and her work at the station to remember. Evangeline decided it was a nice gesture that he had decided to give her a new plant.

“I see,” Evangeline nodded. “So what does rhinoceros trigonometry stand for?”

Adam could not suppress the abrupt laugh that shot out of him. But he cut it off after a short breath, composing himself again. She did not miss that he was unable to meet her eye again and had instead opted to turn away from her entirely.

“The Claret Cup Hedgehog cactus. A hardy plant that will do well sitting on your file cabinet in front of your window.”

Evangeline reached forward and picked up the small cactus. It’s round bulb was covered in treacherous spines that nearly protruded over the sides of the pot. It was small and sharp while still looking elegant and refined inside of its forest green container. 

She couldn’t help herself.

Evangeline poked a spine.

“Ow!”

“Evangeline!” Adam barked out and rushed to her side immediately.

Evangeline remained holding the cactus in one hand while the index finger of her left hand welled blood at its tip. “Oh shoot, I’m sorry. I didn’t actually think it was that sharp.”

Adam’s hands, large and strong, gently pried the cactus from her grip and placed it on her desk. He inhaled sharply as the smell of her blood reached him, but he grit his teeth and reached for her injured hand. 

Evangeline was frozen, watching his intent gaze on her hand as he raised it closer to his face. “You must be more careful Detective. Did the spine break off in your finger?”

She was so focused on Adam’s overwhelming presence above her that she did not notice him pull a tissue from her desk and place it against her finger, gently dabbing away the blood. Evangeline did not wince, she barely breathed. Her mind was racing with the heat of his touch. He was so warm and he held her hands so tenderly.

If she breathed he would surely move.

After confirming that there was no broken spine in her finger (the blood had already dissipated), Adam’s gaze met Evangeline’s again, soft concern in them for a moment. 

And then he was gone, across the room again and Evangeline could feel the shutters locking down his emotions again. 

“Again, even a cactus is a danger to someone like you, Detective.”

Evangeline finally blinked, heart dropping as the heat of him left her but the heat in her cheeks remained. It was her turn to clear her throat.

“Of course. Sorry, Adam,” her voice was flat, nearly robotic.

He nodded and took long strides to the door. “I should be going. I will- We will see you in the morning to assess Unit Bravo’s next steps.”

“Yes. Goodbye Adam,” Evangeline confirmed and her heart begged her to ask him to stay.

But he left her office, only the lingering heat of his hands on hers and the prickly gift that he had left for her to think about. 

With a groan Evangeline dropped her head to her desk. She would not get any work done today. 

  
  
  



	2. Monster (M/F)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia prepares for Wayhaven's annual Halloween event but something lurks in the hallways of the police station... 
> 
> Mia Fuller/Felix Hauville

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incapable of writing anything but happy Felix. I love him.

Mayor Friedman loved his community events. Detective Mia Fuller was sure he only threw the events to bolster his status as mayor. But for this event, she would let it slide.

Wayhaven’s annual “Trunk or Treat” Halloween event was arguably Mia’s favorite part of Fall. Between the copious amounts of candy, the sickly sweet scent of autumn confections being assembled streetside, the joyful laughs of all the children and citizens of Wayhaven… and of course, dressing for the occasion.

So far Mia had run the gamut of costumes since she returned to Wayhaven. As a citizen she was the Tooth Fairy (semi-confusing the children when the tooth fairy handed out candy and not money), and as an Officer for three years she dressed as Wonder Woman, a CATastrophe (cat ears and eyeliner whiskers accompanied the trash and stuffed animals attached in a swirl around her person, a tornado of sorts), and funnily enough, last year a vampire.

This year, Mia buzzed with excitement as she locked up her office, ready to go out and be a part of this year’s festivities as the Detective of Wayhaven. Fortunately, the non-existent crime from the citizens stayed non-existent during the spooky holiday, but Adam assured her that the supernatural would be present this year and more visible than before.

She did not miss the opportunity to make a joke about already seeing Unit Bravo every day.

Adam was not amused.

“ _ Urrrrghhh _ …”

A low groan echoed through the halls of the station. Mia froze, her hand still on the cold steel handle of her office. She turned her head to see Douglas, who wanted nothing to do with Trunk or Treat, also frozen, phone in hand beeping away.

“Douglas, was that your game?” Mia asked. Douglas, face as white as a sheet, shook his head rapidly. Just then, the hanging light over Douglas’s head flickered out. Douglas squeaked. 

Mia reached for her hip, carefully noting the location of her Agency-issued taser before motioning Douglas to get down. He did not hesitate to oblige.

Mia had already shut off most of the lights in the station as everyone was already out on the town for the festivities, and she couldn’t see down the hallway for what might be lurking in the dark.

“ _ Rrrrrrrr _ …..”

Another grumble seemed to echo through the office and the hair’s on the back of Mia’s neck stood on end.

She pulled the taser and walked cautiously forward. “Wayhaven Police. Who is there?”

“ _ Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh _ ….”

A small part of Mia’s brain connected the sound to the groans of the infected victims of the maa-alused. But they had been gone for months and they were certain that everyone had been cured.

Panic flared in her system. “Come out of the shadows, we can talk in the light,” she spoke calmly, eyes fixed on the blackness.

There. A flash of movement. Shambling and slow, coming up the stairs from the morgue. God what would her luck be that it would be a zombie on Halloween.

“Slowly, I can help you. Just come into the light,” she called out, backing up slightly to put more space between the shadows and her position.

Without hesitation the being was before her, arms wrapped firmly around her waist and a very familiar voice whispered in her ear, “Oh I’m certain you can help me, Detective.”

The sudden rush of adrenaline that spiked at their presence drained out suddenly, recognizing the familiar hold of Felix Hauville, member of Unit Bravo, jokester, and begrudgingly at this moment, her boyfriend.

“Felix I swear!!” Mia hissed and tried to swat at him though her hands were pinned to her sides. He laughed in her ear and placed a kiss on her cheek before pulling away with a megawatt smile. Gauze and bandage wraps covered nearly every inch of Felix. Though they hung artistically around his head so he could still see and function like normal. His bright golden eyes shone with mirth and delight. Little spots of brown skin peeked through the layers and she could still see one of his trademark beanies hanging from the back of his head. 

“Pretty convincing mummy, eh?” 

It was at that moment that Mia remembered she and Felix had decided on a couple’s costume. Felix would be a mummy and Mia was Lara Croft, Tomb Raider. 

With her arms free now she gripped the bandages at his chest and throttled him. “Felix I could have tased you! God, you are such a dork.” Even though she growled the words out, Felix could see that the corners of her mouth were edging upwards. Sure enough, after a moment of throttling, Mia lowered her head against Felix’s chest and huffed out a laugh. She took a moment to inhale the scent of him, warmth and cotton and a hint of spice. Her rattling heart began to calm and Felix rubbed her back with a warm hand. The gesture was gentle and loving and Mia was so full of love for-

“Detective?” A small voice called out from a distance away.

Right. Douglas.

“It’s fine Douglas! It’s just Agent Hauville,” Mia called back and Douglas responded with a disgruntled noise and the sounds of him crawling out from under the desk. 

Felix’s smile had faded a bit, slight concern washing over his features. “Are you mad?” he asked.

Mia smiled softly and pulled on the bandages again to kiss him. With her hands against his chest she could feel his heartbeat match her quickened pace. She grinned as she pulled away and Felix dove in for another quick kiss and Mia laughed again, Felix’s heady laugh following soon after.

“I’m not bad. Just… frightened? You gave me a proper scare. Adam warned me to watch out for supernaturals and I thought you were a zombie.”

Felix slid his hands from her back down to her hands, where he intertwined their fingers. “Zombies are awful. They smell from like kilometers away and drip everywhere. It’s disgusting,” Felix scrunched up his nose in distaste. Mia popped up on her tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I believe you.”

She pulled away from him and kept one hand grasping his as she led him out of the station. “Bye, Douglas! Please try to at least seem like you are doing your job.”

Douglas grumbled but she didn’t hear the incessant beeping from his phone like normal.

The bite of October’s evening stung at Mia’s skin. While not too windy, the crisp air bit at all of the exposed skin of Mia’s outfit. And there was a lot of exposed skin. The grey tank top and short cargo shorts with straps for weapons and flashlights did not cover much. She regretted not going for the updated outfit with longer pants and more coverage.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Felix stepped forward and twisted Mia around in a sudden twirl. She gasped as she spun in his grip and looked to Felix with wide eyes when she righted.

“You look super hot babe,” his bright white teeth flashed against their dark surroundings. Felix’s eyes appraised her, full of hunger and attraction. It was semi-difficult to take him seriously while dressed like a mummy, but she knew that his appreciation for her simple outfit was genuine. And the way his eyes lingered on her legs made the outfit feel worth it again. 

Mia barked a laugh and squeezed his hand. “Actually, it’s pretty chilly out here. What would you say to holding me while we walk?”

Felix stepped closer and wrapped his bandaged arms tightly around her. “Why do you think I wanted to be a mummy? Mummy hugs! You shall never escape my hold!” His voice boomed out into the night and they both laughed as they rocked back and forth on the front steps of the station. 

Their laughs subsided into a low, mutual hum before fading into reverent silence. For a minute, or much longer, Mia didn’t care to count, they just held each other and basked in the warmth of their affection.

Far sooner than she would have liked, they were interrupted by a voice at the bottom of the steps. “I hate to interrupt but Ava is getting impatient near the apple bobbing,” Nate called out. Mia sucked in a breath of Felix and squeezed one final time before letting him go, holding his hand again.

“We’re coming Nate. Thanks for the heads up,” Mia answered, staring up at Felix’s face. Felix frowned down at her. 

“Do we have to?” he whispered.

Mia nodded and smiled in return. “Trust me. You are going to have a blast on patrol tonight.”

Mia turned tugging him along into the community of Wayhaven. “There are boatloads of candy, carnival games, costume contests…” Felix gazed lovingly after her as she continued to explain all of the wonders that made up Wayhaven’s Trunk or Treat. 

Nate shook his head with a smile as they walked away from him, seeming to completely forget about his presence. Nate decided that the way they looked at each other, with great affection and mirth, he would let them find their way to Ava on their own.


	3. Mirror (L/N)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leigh has kept a secret from all of Unit Bravo, including her partner, Nate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I.... do this... Does anyone else dance alone in a room waiting for an invisible partner to join them? No? Just me?

Detective Leigh Meadows had a secret.

So far, she had kept it from everyone in Unit Bravo, including her mother. She wasn’t planning on betraying anyone, but a small part of her still burned at the thought of keeping secrets. 

Especially from Nate.

But still, on nights like this, she couldn’t help herself. It was silly and she didn’t know why she felt like it had to be a secret. She had opened like a flower to Nate. He drew out everything beautiful and good in her, and even the thorny ugly parts were accepted as part of the whole. 

This wasn’t an ugly secret but she was too embarrassed to tell.

On nights when Adam had patrol and the training room was sure to be free, when Leigh stayed the night at the Warehouse, when that particular ache settled in her chest, she left.

Leigh escaped to the training room for a different kind of training. No dummies were struck or weights lifted, in fact, for someone who struggled with combat, Leigh made hardly a noise. She let her headphones do it for her.

And Leigh stood, upright and elegant, in front of the large mirror of the training room and waltzed.

She hadn’t had a partner in years. Had kept it a secret from everyone in her life that she had even attended lessons. There had always been a part of her heart that longed to dance with her love. Bobby had refused when she had asked, stating it was dumb and archaic. She had wilted but continued attending lessons in secret.

With headphones around her neck and a blue cashmere robe with pockets full of candles, she would peer around hallways and delicately sneak her way to the training room. Some nights were easier than others. Felix often played loud music in his room and that was sure to drive Mason to the roof where he would brood for several hours. Nate was the one denominator that was difficult to track, especially when she was working so hard to avoid him in the first place. 

But she would eventually reach her destination, sneak in and leave the door at its resting cracked position, slip off her shoes and on her headphones. Warm ups were done in her room where she could waste time waiting for Unit Bravo to settle in. Lighting a candle or two before, she waltzed for precisely 42 minutes, the exact length of four songs that comprised her playlist.

Tchaikovsky. Strauss. Liszt. Shostakovich. 

And when her playlist was through, she didn’t dare chance more for fear of being caught.

It was mildly embarrassing to dance alone anyway, yet alone a waltz. A certain intimacy precluded a waltz, the sensuality in the restraint and subtle touch of another. But dancing alone looked strange and awkward, part of why she worked so hard to never be noticed.

There was space in the training room where her apartment had none. She was shocked that nobody had walked in on her yet. Though she did dance in near darkness, only a candle to lighten the equipment and reflect her steps in the mirror before her.

When she had first started waltzing in the training room, she had used the mirror to perfect her steps, maneuver through the obstacles the training room provided. Now it served as a reflection of who she could be. Happy and dancing and fulfilled. Why hadn’t she asked Nate to dance with her?

She was sure he would. He had probably danced in more ballrooms than she had seen on television. He was probably the perfect partner. He was the perfect partner.

But that was too much. What if she stepped on his toes or stumbled? No. She would continue alone until she was perfect. Until she had the nerve and the skills. Until she was worthy of being Nate’s partner.

So she danced. Heeding only the strings and wind section that floated through her mind. She knew how much space she had, where she could step and where she could not. She had done this enough times to memorize the steps.

Only occasionally would she open her eyes to see the silhouette of her form, illuminated only by candlelight, flit around the room. Whenever she looked she was always smiling.

\--

Nathaniel Sewell was an observant man. Blinded by only a few things, he usually noticed the bulk of everyone’s actions. Especially Unit Bravo’s. Especially Detective Leigh Meadows’.

Nate rarely slept, like most of Unit Bravo, but when he wasn’t in his room or the library, he would wander to the kitchen for a cup of tea. The kitchen that was conveniently near the training room. On some nights, Nate would join Adam’s midnight sparring, if only to help his friend wind down with someone to process his thoughts.

It was a habit to walk by the training room and check for Adam, even on nights that Adam was patrolling. Habit he swears.

Nate halted at first when he noticed the crack of the training room door. Just as it always was when it wasn’t in use. Open enough to invite but closed enough to signal privacy. And that is just what Nate thought it was. Empty and waiting.

But he could see the faintest trickle of light from the depths of the room. He began to open the door and turn on the lights when he heard it. The light footsteps and Detective Meadow’s racing heart. He almost swung the door open to shed some light when he could hear the huff of her breath.

Nate froze outside of the doorway. His mind raced at the possibilities of what she was doing in the darkness, alone in the training room. Why wasn’t she sleeping? Then his brain connected the dots. Her steps were measured. Her breathing even, though faster than normal. The slightest ring of music through headphones.

It was difficult for a man of his stature to do, but Nate slipped inside the door, only opening it a fraction more to make it through. Nate stuck to the shadows and the edge of the room, moving slowly in case she noticed. She noticed so much.

And finally settling amid some of the weight training equipment, crouching between metal bars and shadows, Nate watched.

He watched his beloved Detective dance. And dance and dance and dance.

Apart from reading a book this was the happiest he had ever seen her. She wasn’t beaming or laughing, but Nate watched her whole body sing with energy, completely rapt to the attention of the music.

Nate decided he would give anything to dance with her.

He was about to approach her when her eyes fluttered open, trained on the now ever so slightly more open door and she froze, arms still in waltzing position. She ripped off her headphones and listened, and Nate stopped breathing. Something seemed sacred in this moment. If he revealed he had watched her, would she be upset? Had she wanted to be noticed she would have turned the lights on. Surely it would be easier to dance that way.

But Leigh picked up the solitary candle that accompanied her and used it to guide herself out of the training room, peeking down the hallway to make sure no one was near. She was oblivious to Nate’s gaze that tracked her every move.

And then she left.

And came back approximately one week later. Adam was on patrol again and Leigh had decided to stay the night after a particularly late session of research.

Again, Nate couldn’t fathom how she retained so much energy after being so exhausted. But she danced in the candlelight, over and over, rotation after rotation. The light bathed the paleness of her skin and the many freckles dotted her arms. The cashmere robe swung about her hips when she twirled, revealing the barest hint of upper thigh. He had slipped into the training room again. And then again the following week. And again.

He wasn’t sure how long she had been practicing before, but Nate could see how hard she worked to perfect her technique. Precise and methodical, just like she was in her research. And in the dim light it was clear to Nate how often she smiled while dancing. Sometimes the smiles were full of the joy and exuberance of the waltz, other times they were laced with something somber and longing. It was those smiles that made him ache to jump in. He clenched his fists at his sides and let his heart ache.

But he repressed the urge for a solid month. 152 minutes of watching her dance alone in the candlelight with music Nate could hear through her fairly expensive headphones.

Tchaikovsky. Strauss. Liszt. Shostakovich.

She was so beautiful.

In the darkness Nate could make out the walnut strands of hair that tickled her neck and collar. A smile stretched on his face at the realization that even in self-induced pitch darkness, she still wore her glasses. As she danced she exuded a particular grace that was not present in her day-to-day actions. Her movement was unburdened and immeasurably light. 

When she turned away from him he watched her in the mirror. And then he would watch her watching herself in the mirror. Concentration alighted in her eyes, determination and levity right behind it. He particularly liked how she stuck her tongue out when she concentrated on a difficult step. 

God he wanted her.

His whole body ached with longing. His hands were raw with desire to hold her and he forced his feet to stay still and in place. She had opened up to him over the weeks she had known him. From cold and blank to soft and open. She shared her thoughts and her research and her glorious mind with him. He would never forget the night she first kissed him. Under the light of the stars and planets that she studied so often, she finally felt free to act on her feelings. Had the fireworks overhead not been blatantly present he was sure that they were conjured by his exploding heart. At that moment he was certain that his soul belonged to her, and he was almost certain she felt the same.

But still, why hide her dancing? Nate would have been happy to dance with her. Elated, even. The thought of holding her hand and swinging around a ballroom for hours would keep Nate awake on the nights after she waltzed alone. A tiny, nervous part of Nate’s brain kept him from acting, from breaking the graceful spell she would cast the moment the music played. Would she resent him for watching?

Nate was brought back to the present when he watched her jump in the air, performing what clearly was meant to be a lift in the step. It was much more difficult to do alone. She was listening to the Waltz of the Flowers. It took her several moments to catch up to the beats after faltering in the lift. In the candlelight it was easy to see how her face fell at the failed maneuver. Nate was sure that she would execute it perfectly in his hands.

His hands that fisted his sleep shirt and shook with barely restrained action. How much longer could he endure watching his beloved dance alone? 

154 minutes was long enough.

\--

Leigh always struggled with the parts that were made for a partner. Lifts were the worst. What was meant to be something measured and trusting became jarring and stiff without a partner and often put her out of step for several beats. 

She was particularly frustrated on this night. Not only with her lack of precision but with her lack of a partner. She wanted so badly to dance with Nate. Her soul sang at the thought of dancing with him. In her mind it felt almost as intimate as kissing, if not more.

Something about holding someone so close, trusting them with your step. To lead you and hold you and maintain that closeness over a long period of time. She could feel him now, the phantom touch of his tawny skin on hers. The tickle of his breath on her skin and his laugh in her ear. Long nights she would lie awake dreaming of their partnered steps and the whispers of his promises.

God she wanted him.

But she kept dancing, out of step and eyes closed, focused only on catching up to the music, on the invisible steps that played in her head.

Until a hand met her own.

Surely she hadn’t wanted so badly that her mind conjured a faux beau to dance with. But as she opened her eyes and adjusted to the dim candlelight, her heart stopped.

Nate looked down at her with warm brown eyes and a princely smile. Her mouth dropped open as she gaped at him. She had conjured an apparition that melded to her fantasy Nate. Felt and smelled a lot like Nate. Like old books and warm hands. But gone was the regency clothing in favor of particularly stylish sleepwear. 

He spoke something to her she couldn’t hear through the headphones. With a quick hand but never truly letting her go, Nate gently pried the headphones off and placed them around her neck. They still rang out with the sounds of Tchaikovsky. 

“Is this alright?” he asked again.

She blinked. “Are you real?”

Now Nate grinned, all affectionate eyes and gentle edges. “I assure you, Miss Leigh, I am very real.”

Heat flushed into Leigh’s cheeks and her step stuttered, though Nate guided her through it and back to the tempo. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought it was obvious. I’m dancing with you.”

Leigh’s heart trilled to hear him speak the words she had only dreamed of. “But why? How?”

Her bewilderment made Nate laugh, a soft and low noise that settled low in her gut.

“Would you like the truth?” he asked, voice playful but cautious. Leigh nodded. “I’ve watched you dance several times now.” Nate bit his lip and dropped his gaze to their hands. “Your beauty and grace enrapture me.”

God Leigh could melt.

“I confess that the first time was pure accident. I hadn’t meant to observe, I didn’t know why there was a light in the training room. But when I saw you dance…” he took that time to spin her outward and pull her back in. The flaps of her robe twirled as a ballroom gown. “I desperately wanted to join you. But you noticed the door and dashed away.”

“I knew it,” Leigh exclaimed, then whispered. “I knew someone had seen.”

“But you didn’t see me among the equipment.”

She averted her gaze then.

“The next few times… The determination and will in your eyes to execute the perfect step kept drawing me back. Aside from books I have never seen you so full of passion. I can only hope that you would look at me with such passion one day,” Nate confessed with a smirk and Leigh gaped at him, eyes wide.

“Ha! Not quite like that,  _ dorogoy _ .” 

She snapped her mouth shut and looked away to the mirror, watching them dance. “Russian?”

She could hardly see him nod in the dim light. “ _ Da _ , good ear. Do you know its translation?”

Leigh loved this game. “I don’t. I will have to research it in your library.”

“It’s not my library, technically,” he responded.

“Technically, it is 87% your personal collection. I think that constitutes it being yours,” she retorted. They both smiled and turned to watch them dance in the mirror.

“Lift.”

“What?”

“Lift.”

Leigh had half a second to prepare herself to be lifted in step with the music. She had been on autopilot and had completely forgotten about the lift. But her heart did not and would not for days to come. His hands, firmly and gently gripping her hips and lifting her into the air. Her hands reflexively shot to his shoulders and he spun her for two beats too long. Leigh could only focus on his eyes, filled with love and passion. A gaze to make her fall in love. When he set her down again, he managed to seamlessly lead them through to the next steps without faltering.

She was amazed by him.

He was amazed by her.

They stayed silent for the rest of the song, dancing and focusing on being in each other’s presence. When the song ended, Nate released his hold on her waist and lifted the hand he had been holding to his lips. He bowed low and pressed a gentle kiss on her knuckles, looking up at her through full eyelashes. The music quickly transitioned to the next track and he flashed her a gentleman’s smile. 

“May I have this dance, Miss Leigh?”

_ You can have everything _ , her soul responded.

Instead, she offered a smile of her own and a weak curtsy. “I would be delighted, Sir Nate.”

And they danced. For much longer than the 42 minutes that the playlist allowed. But neither of them noticed, too absorbed in each other’s eyes. 


	4. Strong (J/M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason is finishing up patrol when the smell of something strong draws him to Detective Hawthorne's window.

_ What the fuck was that smell? _

Mason wrinkled his nose and loosed wisps of smoke into the grey morning. The night’s patrol had dragged on for hours and he was bored out of his mind. The most exciting thing since the maa-alused had been when some lady named Petunia swore that someone was trying to break into her house for 4 nights in a row. The burglar had been a pack of rowdy racoons who were desperate to eat her leftover lasagna.

Juniper had laughed heartily upon discovery and though Mason was freezing his balls off while accompanying her, her melodious laughter was enough to just crack his shell of annoyance. A long night on patrol had the ability to draw that memory back to him. And also the memory of her thank you she had given him after the event. 

The cold bite of evening air didn’t bother him when she was between…

As he inhaled again another whiff of the same smell came over him. The scent was strong and cloying in the air outside of Juniper’s apartment. The smell seemed to stick in his nose, assaulting him even through the acrid haze of cigarette smoke.

He had a gut feeling he knew what the culprit was. 

Mason didn’t have to check the time to know it was too early for anyone to be alive.

He ground his teeth together and stalked up the fire escape of her apartment. The other rooms were silent but the sounds of fans, heartbeats and snoring. But residing three rooms in and two floors up was his destination. The fire escape in question was covered in potted plants, in the buds of new growth. Amid a budding pot of purple leaves was a tiny wooden sign that read, “Gnome Sweet Gnome”, painted with red mushrooms and ivy leaves. 

Mason doubted that Juniper knew how annoying the little shits could be.

He stood to his full height outside her window and had to choke back a cough when the fan in the apartment blew out the scent of sugar, cinnamon, and a hundred other offensive scents. He found it hard to believe at one point in time he had been human and potentially could have craved anything like what he was smelling.

Maybe he hadn’t.

Now he stood as a dark shape in the tall window of Detective Juniper Hawthorne’s apartment, watching her flit about her tiny kitchen in a frilled mint apron. He could appreciate the view of her milky thighs courtesy of the tiny starred sleep shorts she was wearing.

If only she was just wearing the apron.

And as she flitted about the kitchen, reaching for something in a tall cabinet that stretched the tiny fabric even further up her thighs, giving Mason a tantalizing glimpse of black lace, she almost fell to the floor on her way down from the stretch.

A familiar heat grew in his skin, warming it from the chilly bite of morning. He stomped out his cigarette and watched her struggle to open a jar.

Unlike her lithe body, her struggle was hard to watch.

Mason knocked on the plane of glass before him and felt the edges of a smirk curl on his face when she jumped nearly a foot in the air.

Her head whipped toward the window and Mason watched her expression shift from shock to relief in a soft smile that wound its way up her freckled cheeks. Mason did not acknowledge the other kind of heat that settled in his chest at the way she looked at him.

She set down the jar in her hand and bounced over to the window. Again, she struggled to force it up the track but leaned her head out to beam up at him.

“Good morning, sunshine. What has you darkening my doorway this morning?”

“Whatever has you awake at the asscrack of dawn, sweetheart.”

Mason watched the way her grin faded to something softer and more… what was the word for it? He couldn’t place it but he just knew it was softer and had her heart beating a little faster.

“I’ll unlock the door for you. Unless you want to climb in through the window.”

Mason just scoffed and turned away from the fire escape, hearing her snort of laughter as he sped away and around to the front door.

As promised, it opened easily but he immediately took a step back and a staggering breath when the full strength of the apartment smells hit him. 

He threw his arm over his nose in an effort to keep from gagging.

“Why the fuck does it smell like Charlie’s Chocolate Factory in here?” he hissed.

Juniper’s bouncing step faltered and she went white, well, whiter than normal.

Mason then watched her fly through her apartment, pulling something from her counter in haste. 

“Ow, hot, hot, hot, ow,” she recited as she sped into her room. When she exited again, she had another fan in her hands and she shut the door of her room. She then pointed both of the fans toward the open window in a hasty attempt to pull the smells from the kitchen to the outdoors.

“Sorry, I didn’t think about it before I invited you in. And technically it is Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, but I applaud you for making a pop culture reference.”

How could he forget when she and Farah had forced him to watch both movies in a row and then gorge themselves on candy and junk food.

Mason could not place whether it was the work of the fans or simply existing in Juniper’s presence but after a minute he found the air breathable again, but just barely.

“Didn’t answer the question,” he said.

Juniper bit her lip and looked away from him. “I’m baking.”

“Pretty obvious.”

She rolled her eyes at him and placed a hand on her hip. The way she cocked one hip to the side and the attitude of her glare would have made other men wither but Mason only simmered with renewed desire for the Detective.

They stared at each other, both holding the other’s gaze. Most people looked away from Mason’s intense grey eyes after only moments but Juniper always held his gaze like a challenge. Or a treasure on rare occasions.

When neither of them budged, Juniper just continued with her work. “I guess you have great timing because I need your help.”

Mason cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Here,” she thrust the jar from before toward Mason, this time averting her gaze with pink tinged ears.

He didn’t take the jar. “What am I supposed to do with a jar of… what the shit? Is this honey?”

She rolled her eyes again and kept the jar proffered. “Yes it is honey and… I need you to open it.” The latter half of her sentence was whispered. Mason grinned.

“Sorry sweetheart, what was that last bit?”

Juniper turned to glare at him with fiery green eyes. “I need you to open the jar.”

“And what do I get out of it if I do?” Mason questioned.

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow but she didn’t miss a beat. “What will you miss out on if you don’t?”

There was the fire.

“Make it a taste of  _ your  _ honey and I’ll do it gladly.”

And the way the blush bloomed over her cheeks and her whole body flushed with heat was enough sugar for Mason’s needs. She sputtered for a response now and her hand began to falter under the weight of the jar. 

Mason reached out for it and popped the lid off with zero issue. 

She sagged a bit in relief as she took the jar for him and turned around to face the kitchen again. “Thank you,” she whispered as she spooned out some honey into a pot.

Mason hummed in acknowledgement and took a moment to appreciate the view.

Juniper had always been a homely person, evident in the cosy stylings of her apartment and clothing. But seeing her bake in the kitchen was something different. The way she worked brought the inkling of something like a memory to the edges of Mason’s thoughts. Not enough to actually remember something, but just enough to make him aware that something was there in the way she worked.

He shook the thought away and returned to the much more tantalizing thought of Juniper against the counter.

She worked diligently at the stove, and Mason met her gaze out of the corner of her eye several times before the smell of boiling sugar took away her attention. Even though he was in the thick of it, with her grounding heartbeat and the warmth she radiated, the scents weren’t so bad anymore.

He found that he recognized the scent of vanilla and honey as scents that clung to her skin when she was at work. And at the Warehouse, and when she was underneath him.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

She finally clicked off the stove and took a spoon and the pot and walked away to her room. When she returned, the pot was empty and she filled it with water before turning to face Mason again.

“Really, thank you Mason. I would have been struggling with that jar all morning. My signature sticky buns just aren’t the same without honey,” her voice was soft and warm and playing on the edge of tired. She flexed her fingers and stretched out her hands, moving the blood through them and willing the pain Mason knew had settled into them away.

She would never have gotten that jar open on her own. It wasn’t that the jar was impossible to open, but her strength was poor on a good day. Part of Mason was glad he had decided to check in on her instead of going back to the Warehouse. Only for his reward of course.

If Mason had to put a time on it, he would say it was nearing 5 o’clock. She stretched her arms over her head and again the apron and her shorts rode up her thighs. This time, Mason didn’t hesitate. He strode forward and secured his hands around her waist, reveling in her rapid heartbeat and warm skin. He inched his cold fingers under the edge of her tanktop and onto the soft skin of her hips. She shivered and shuttered her eyes closed.

“Mason…” she whispered.

“I believe you owe me a reward, sweetheart,” he murmured into her neck before placing languid kisses down the side. Her fingers reached out and grasped at the black henley he sported before roaming up to spread over his chest. 

“I don’t think I ever agreed…” she mused but made no effort to pull away from him. A smirk stretched on his face before he let his teeth drag gently over her neck. 

The way she moaned was pure, sweet honey of its own.

“And the only thing I’ve been thinking of is you in this apron.” He pulled away and kissed her, pulling away to growl into her ear, “ _ Only _ the apron.”

She melted in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I am not happy with this one but I literally spent all day making pumpkin cinnamon rolls and it is all I can think about. That and I am physically weak, and emotionally weak for Mason.


	5. Moon (J/M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juniper finds herself with another near death experience and her and Mason both process it under the stars.

Even the easy town of Wayhaven had its troubles, especially when Detective Juniper Hawthorne and Unit Bravo were involved.

Though they had succeeded in their mission, the days events were weighing heavily on Juniper’s mind. Unit Bravo had been tasked with tracking down a roving group of harpies and warding them away from the griffin nest territory they were encroaching on. It should have been a simple mission, find them, persuade them away, and get out. Alerting the griffins had the potential to ensure a territorial battle that all parties would want to avoid.

Why Unit Bravo took Juniper on a rock climbing mission she would never guess.

Never the strongest in any sense, Agent Hawthorne had decided that Juniper’s presence would be a good way to introduce her to new supernaturals without an immediate threat and develop her skills at being an Agency liaison. Nice goals but tough execution.

Adam and Mason had free climbed up the cliff’s jagged surface and secured anchors for the rest of Unit Bravo’s safe ascent. Farah had gone up next, leaving Nat to watch Juniper at the bottom as she made her climb. It should have been a five minute climb, but Adam had called out instructions from up top as Juniper took frequent breaks on the ascent. 

Upon making it to the top, almost 20 minutes later, Juniper had sighed in relief, desperate to get away from the ledge. The exertion of the climb had made her lightheaded, and she stumbled to stay upright when her vision turned to black spots.

The next thing she knew she was falling. And not to the ground under her feet.

The entirety of Unit Bravo had yelled for her but it was too late. Her body was going over the cliff’s edge.

She didn’t even have time to scream before Mason was heaving over her, one hand grasping her arm as she teetered off the cliff’s edge, the other holding Adam’s arm, securing himself to the cliff’s edge. For a split moment it seemed that they dangled over thin air, only Mason’s intense eyes and grip anchoring Juniper to the world.

Juniper wasn’t sure if her heart was beating so quickly it was indistinguishable or if her heart had stopped entirely.

Once everyone was safe on the cliff, and far away from its edge, Juniper received a stern lecture from Adam, Farah’s worried questioning and Nat’s reassurance and kindness. Mason could no longer meet her gaze.

Things had only gotten worse when the griffins arrived, drawn by the shouts of the Unit. Narrowly avoiding a conflict between the griffins and harpies, and the griffins and Unit Bravo, they returned to the Warehouse, exasperated and much later than expected. Juniper sat through the debriefing in a haze, her only thoughts on how she fell and in those moments, only seeing Mason. 

Even before he had reached her all she had seen was his face.

Her uncharacteristic silence was unsettling the entire group, evident in Farah’s many attempted jokes, and even Adam’s worried glances toward Juniper.The meeting ended without any particular resolution other than the weary gazes of the Unit. Well into the night, Nat suggested that Juniper stay for the night and return to her apartment in the morning. Juniper did not object and began the walk to her room. As she exited the conference room, Mason stood outside the door, arms crossed over his chest and a foot propped up on the wall behind him, leaning casually. They finally looked in each other’s eyes for a long moment before Mason jerked his head upward in a silent command, no, invitation, before he turned and headed down the hallway toward the roof entrance.

Juniper followed without hesitation.

Mason, though taller with longer strides, stayed right in step with Juniper, hands in his pockets. Juniper mindlessly fidgeted with her sleeve and looked to see the crystal hanging from his neck on full display. It’s smoky lustre reminded Juniper of Mason’s eyes in the moment he held her. 

She looked away.

The metal door creaked open, inviting the two of them into the night air. Juniper did not notice that Mason took a seat far away from the ledge of the rooftop. She sat neck to him and stared at her hands in her lap, the extending silence washing over them. A familiar hiss of a lighter and the acrid smoke filled the air, soon washed away on the night’s breeze.

Away from the other’s Juniper processed the events of the day. She was  _ weak _ , had she been stronger she wouldn’t have been winded by the climb, wouldn’t have nearly  _ passed out _ on the edge of a cliff. And her failure resulted in the terror of Unit Bravo and her near death. Not to mention the almost disastrous ending to a simple mission that also could have been avoided. 

Mason’s steely grey eyes flashed in her mind. Sitting in silence allowed her to process the intensity of his stare. She was so used to his eyes full of desire or annoyance. This was the first time she had ever seen fear. The thought that she had caused that much fear in him was upsetting her in more ways than one. The pinpricks of tears stung at her eyes and a heaviness settled in her chest.

As panic and self-loathing filled her thoughts, she gasped in a breath when Mason’s hand closed over hers. She sucked in a sniffle and looked to him to find his eyes boring into her own. No more fear, no annoyance. His eyes instead bordered on sympathetic. The dam of emotion broke within her and silent tears cascaded down her cheeks. For the first time since the mission she spoke.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t,” she sniffled, “I shouldn’t be crying. This is so embarrassing.” Before she could continue her tear laden frantic ranting, Mason tugged on her arm, drawing her forward into his chest. And for the first time, Mason hugged Juniper, arms tight around her. Juniper could no longer hold in her tears and cried into his shoulder, the heavy events of the day escaping in the salty tears.

Mason for the first time since watching her fall took a full breath. The reassurance in her heartbeat against his chest was anchoring him to her, driving away the thought that kept coming back to him despite him vehemently shoving it away. Had he been a breath later, would she be here?

And for the first time in his life, Mason let a woman cry on his shoulder and he didn’t feel an ounce of annoyance, only relief in her grasp of his shirt and the sound of her breathing.

Mason let his gaze wander to the open sky, bright moonlight bathing both of them in silver. After her tears were gone, Mason shifted Juniper so she was sitting in his lap, her back to his chest. They sat in more silence as she willed her body to stop shaking, grounding herself in Mason’s touch.

She only knew that he spoke because she could feel his voice through the rumbles against her back. “What was that?” she asked.

“Tell me about the stars,” he repeated. A long time ago in offhanded research before finding the maa-alused, Juniper had mentioned her vast study of the night sky. A single comment that Mason remembered on quiet nights under the stars.

Juniper took in a breath and looked up to the sky. She knew that he was redirecting her thoughts and she was grateful for it. Juniper pointed a hand upward, pointing out constellations Mason didn’t know or care for. But in that moment he knew he cared for her. More than he could admit.

Instead, he relished in her voice and steadying heartbeat, the smell of vanilla on her skin. Juniper relished in his warmth and gentle grip on her hand. And Mason let her talk about stars and planets, about the origin of the moon and how the moon loved the sun and the sun loved the moon. And he let her talk until her voice grew soft and her breathing slowed. And they sat in each other’s warmth until Mason carried her to her room, lingering for longer than normal, before he returned to his own room, letting sleep wash over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I had wanted to write about Nate, but I decided his story would be better suited for a different prompt day. I don't know why this one came to me, or why it hit me so hard. For some reason, though I am terrible at actually getting it down on the page, I found myself crying in Juniper's stead. Something about the multitude of emotions that near death causes. Ugh. I also wanted to write a story with no dialog, but I found that the three lines I wrote were necessary for her story. Also, this was heavily inspired by tumblrs @agentfreckles who had a post about UB's love languages and how M's is touch. I thought that Mason's own emotional turmoil at watching the Detective fall would be too much for words, and he is more of an action kind of guy anyway.   
> I hope someone enjoys this. I will continue to improve as I write so thank you for bearing with me.


	6. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evangeline has an Agency mandated date to attend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright alright alright alright. I'm really happy with this one! I had a lot of fun writing it. My first instinct on this prompt was to go angsty, but I wanted to do something a little lighter. Plus I really like to think that Adam had racked up quite the bill with the Agency since he met the Detective. Hope you enjoy!

The chill of autumn had taken over and washed away the long summer nights that Evangeline loved so dearly. But there was no stopping the changing of the seasons, and there was no stopping a woman on a mission.

Evangeline would follow orders as long as she got to complete them on her own terms.

And that was how she ended up dressed to the nines on a blustery Thursday evening in October, pinning her earrings in as she prepped in the mirror.

Lining her lips with fierce red lipstick, she went over the mission’s details in her head.

Simple: get in, make contact with the mark, establish a contact for the Agency, and leave amicably. Farah had very kindly simplified the tasks in a teasing comment, “Oh so she’s going on a date for the Agency.”

The silence of the conference room was broken with the clear  _ snap! _ of a pen breaking in half. Evangeline did not have to look to know the ink had stained Adam’s left hand.

“Now that is not necessarily what the mission is,” Nat assuaged.

“Yes it is. She has to play nice with the incubus and convince him to ally with the Agency, and leave without killing him. Pretty sure that’s a date,” Mason commented. Nat turned a withering stare to Mason, who remained unaffected.

“Besides, he asked  _ specifically  _ for the Detective. Said he wouldn’t make contact with anyone else,” Farah added. Nat looked like an exasperated kindergarten teacher.

“And that is fine. I’m perfectly capable of handling a contact mission. We will be in full view of the others in the restaurant and I will have my comms on me at all times,” Evangeline finally spoke up.

Adam drew a terse breath and grumbled something that Evangeline didn’t catch.

“What was that, Commanding Agent?” She asked icily. The tone reminded the whole of Unit Bravo of Evangeline and Adam’s spat from the day before. Something about her receiving phone calls from members of Unit Alpha. It hadn’t ended amicably.

“Nothing, Detective Windsor,” Adam grunted. A predatory smile overtook Farah.

“You’re right, Adam. I’m sure we will  _ all  _ be keeping our eyes on Evangeline.”

Adam rolled his eyes and turned to face the window, keeping his left hand in a fist at his side.

The rest of Unit Bravo had hashed out the details and finalized the report before she left to acquire clothing for the evening.

Tranquillite was the singular fancy restaurant in Wayhaven, featuring a variety of five-star cuisines. Evangeline vaguely remembered it had started as a take and bake pizza restaurant when she was 9. 

But Uranyx had insisted that, “Detective Windsor meet me at precisely 7:15, alone, on the stoop of Tranquillite in fitting attire for the restaurant.” That had been his only communication, provided in the middle of rush hour at Haley’s, before he walked out the door and disappeared into thin air.

Adam had been with Evangeline at the time, and subsequently had to pay Haley for an irreparably bent spoon. He had developed a habit of crushing things in his hands as of late. 

Nat had removed most of the pens and delicate utensils from the common areas and the conference room. Farah had conspiratorially placed them all back with more additions.

And as her heels clicked down the hall of the Warehouse, Evangeline headed toward the common room, where they would all meet before she would leave for the restaurant in question. Though she looked absolutely fantastic, a part of her gut still knotted at the thought of going on a date with anyone but Adam.

Not that he had ever asked her on a date. Or given her any indication that he desired to take a step forward into  _ something  _ rather than the hot and cold interactions the had on a daily basis.

As she stood outside of the common room she fidgeted with the necklace at her throat. A single teardrop emerald hung from a silver chain, the only gift she had ever accepted from her mother after graduation. It provided a nice pop of color, accompanying the ivory skin tight, one shoulder evening dress she currently sported.

Radically different from the sensible business wear she normally wore to work.

Evangeline took a moment to wonder about Unit Bravo’s reactions to her outfit. Mason would offer a flirtatious comment, likely seconded by Farah. Nat would give her a genuine compliment and Adam…

Would he even meet her eyes from across the room?

What she wouldn’t give to be dressed like this for him. To be spending the evening alone with him, without any arguing or obligations…

She didn’t have time to keep daydreaming when the door swung open.

Farah stood and greedily raked her eyes over Evangeline, causing her to blush and tuck a strand of curled chestnut hair behind her ear.

Farah whistled and grinned widely. “Damn, Evangeline, you clean up  _ fine _ ,” she purred. Evangeline offered a quirked smile and strode into the room.

“Yes, Evangeline. You do look absolutely stunning this evening,” Nat spoke up from the table nearest her with a genuine smile.

“Uranyx won’t have any problem leaving amicably when he gets his-” Mason’s voice trailed off in Evangeline’s ears when her eyes honed in on Adam.

Adam was hunched over, arms spread wide to grip the edges of the windowsill he always stood at. His shoulders were nearly touching his ears and he was wound so tightly she swore he wound spring at any moment. Though he was turned away from her, Evangeline knew where to look. She met his gaze in the reflection of the window, his green eyes glued to hers. Evangeline also noticed that instead of grinding his teeth like she had expected, his mouth had fallen into the telltale expression of  _ oh _ .

A warmth rushed through Evangeline’s veins at the intensity of his gaze. All of the sounds of Unit Bravo had drained away as the blood pumped in her ears. Something in her mind told her to  _ run _ , either away or straight into his arms, but how could she choose?

“.... Detective?”

Adam’s eyes snapped away from hers and she was drawn back to her senses. “Sorry, what?” she looked toward Nat who had just spoken to her.

“We were just discussing,” Nat began but was immediately interrupted as Farah popped in front of her.

“We were just discussing how amazingly attractive you are, Detective. Isn’t that right, Adam? Doesn’t Evangeline just look ravishing?” Farah’s voice, smooth as silk, dripped in the familiar teasing tone that Evangeline had come to enjoy over the last few months. But instead of glaring in good fun back at Farah, Evangeline couldn’t stop looking at Adam. Hoping.

In a move so shocking Evangeline could have fallen backwards, Adam shook out his hands, turned and faced her fully, shoulders dropped and expression… appraising? She couldn’t place it.

“I agree that Evangeline is phenomenal, as always.”

The last words seemed to slip out, shocking even Adam as he spoke them.

There was no hiding the way her heart fluttered in that moment.

“And she is going to be phenomenally late if we keep gawking,” Mason drawled from the corner.

That snapped everyone back to attention and Nat began ushering Evangeline out the door. Evangeline looked over her shoulder where Farah waved wildly and hollered, “Don’t let him under your skirt! And if he tries, remember to S-I-N-G!”

“Farah!” Adam barked, causing Farah to start cackling. Evengeline met Adam’s gaze for one last moment, before being torn away from their connection.

As Evangeline was ushered away for the evening, Mason pushed off of the wall he was leaning on.

“So Adam, you gonna replace that windowsill?”

Though the sound hadn’t been as obvious with all of Farah’s raucous compliments, the windowsill indeed, was splintered where Adam’s hands had been. Upon seeing the Detective, all restraint was forced into his grip as his mind had roared, go to her. But he had stood, frozen to the spot by her beauty. Frozen with shame for letting another man take her for the evening, even if it was for the Agency.

Instead, he looked at his hands, tiny splinters of wood still remained in them, accompanying the remnants of ink he had yet to scrub from his hands. A visual reminder of his weakness for Detective Evangeline Windsor.


	7. Sleep (L/M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Meadows has had a very long week and a stakeout to top it all off. Nate is concerned.

Leigh Meadows traditionally preferred calming herbal tea over any other beverage that could be offered to her. Tonight, she had 4 shots of espresso in the strongest black coffee Haley could give her.

Leigh took a sip of the potent brew. “Ugh,” she grimaced. “This tastes like tar.”

Nate’s soft laugh filled the quiet between them. “You don’t have to drink it.”

“Yes I do. I can’t pass out on a mission,” Leigh responded and took another sip. Thankfully the drink wasn’t sludgy like tar, but it still burned down her throat with an acidic earthiness she did not enjoy.

Nate reached over and pried the drink from the Detective’s hands, easily dodging her prying grabs. “Maybe we lay off on the caffeine for a minute.”

Leigh rubbed her hands together in the absence of the coffee’s warmth and nodded. “Just for a minute.”

“Why did you get coffee anyway? You normally get mint tea from Haley’s. Chamomile in the evenings. Why the switch to espresso?” Nate asked.

The tiniest of butterflies began fluttering in her stomach. Nate had memorized her drink order. Of course he had. They went to Haley’s together often enough, but the thought still made her skin warm.

“To stay awake,” she responded simply.

“And black tea wouldn’t be efficient enough for you?”

She scoffed. “Nothing short of espresso or those 10-hour energy drinks could save me after the week I’ve had.” 

“And pray tell, what sort of week was that?” Amusement laced Nate’s tone.

Leigh raised a pair of binoculars and scouted the door they had been watching. Nate didn’t need binoculars of course, but she did. Her poor glasses did enough work as it was to help her see and there was no way she would be able to see anything beyond the darkness 10 feet ahead of her without the binoculars.

“Have you heard anything?” Leigh sidetracked. Nate shook his head no and bumped her arm with his elbow. 

“You’re avoiding the question,  _ méli, _ ” Nate observed.

Blood rushed to Leigh’s cheeks and if that hadn’t given it away her traitorous heart surely would tip him off anyway.

“What is that?” She asked. Nate’s expression only read,  _ come on, you are still avoiding the subject. _

She remained glued to their mark, a potential hideout for Trapper activity. It had just been a tip, and Unit Bravo had been watching for days now. It was Leigh’s turn to watch the location and Nate had promptly volunteered to join her, much to Felix’s chagrin. Though he had complained about never being paired with Leigh for missions, he had quickly resorted to teasing the two of them about their “alone time”. 

“Maybe,” Leigh broke the silence with a whisper. Nate breathed another laugh and he reached over, placing a large, warm hand over Leigh’s, gently prompting the binoculars away from her face.

He wormed one hand underneath her grip and squeezed gently. “Look at me,” Nate prompted. Leigh was practically pouting and had turned her face away from his. “Hey, is everything alright?” His voice turned concerned, finally getting the chance to fully observe her since climbing into their Agency-issued stakeout vehicle. “ _ Oraíos,  _ you know you can tell me anything, yes?”

His concern made her traitorous heart melt even more, but she turned to face him and looked at the collar of his plaid flannel instead of his eyes.

His free hand reached up and cupped her cheek, thumb brushing over the smattering of freckles as gently as a kiss.The gesture was soft, intimate, and it had Leigh’s heart racing and her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his touch. 

Leigh exhaled heavily and on the tail end of the breath, she mumbled her words together into an incoherent sentence.

“What was that?” he asked.

“It’s a long story…” she finally spoke.

“But are you alright?”

Her free hand trembled a bit as she raised it to cover his hand on her cheek. She used it to cradle his hand away from her face and pressed a kiss to his palm in perhaps one of her boldest actions to date. She could hear Nate’s sharp inhale of a breath and she finally looked into his warm brown eyes. 

“I’m fine, Nate. Just tired.”

His eyes softened a bit from their concern, but he still held her with reverence. They sat there for a moment before she pulled one hand away to worry at the hair that had fallen loose from its tie.    
“Like I said, it’s a long story, and it’s more embarrassing than I would care to admit.”

“But would you care to tell me?” Nate asked.

“For you, Nate, I shall.”

And so Detective Meadows launched into the harrowing story of her week at Wayhaven PD. What started off on a Monday morning with a lecture from the Police Chief about her commitment to the station, promptly followed a lecture from Mayor Friedman, who ranted on and on about the Agency and Agent Meadows. Leigh had cut off the Mayor with a bold statement, “Stop trying to hit on my mother,” and abruptly hung up. She ignored the following six phone calls from the Mayor.

Tuesday brought Bobby to the steps of Wayhaven PD, someone she would rather throw in a jail cell than deign to speak with. He attempted to regale Leigh with a tale of a scandalous break in at Madame Yvette’s House of Exotic Eccentricities, which PD policy mandated that she listen to and document, though the Madame had already been by to give her statement. Leigh was almost certain it had been local teenagers on a dare. Bobby used the report as a ruse to prompt her for information, which she did not supply. Verda had come to her rescue with a “peculiar sample from the Madame’s break in.” Bobby left and she followed Verda to the basement. The sample had been a donut that Tina had gotten on her way back from examining the scene this morning. Leigh thanked him profusely and nearly cried into the powdered sugar confectionery.

Wednesday Tina had recommended a book to Leigh, who was more than happy to read it on her lunch break. What started as an hour lunch quickly morphed into a 4-hour read in as Leigh was so engrossed in the book she had barely even looked up from her desk. She stayed up well into the morning to finish the book and spent the entirety of Thursday solving the Madame case (it had been the teenagers) and catching up on the paperwork she had lost track of for the week.

And that had taken her to Thursday evening, where Ava had called and let her know that it was her turn to watch the potential Trapper location.

“I know it’s dumb but I have gotten maybe 10 hours of sleep since Monday and I’ve just been overwhelmed, sorry,” she apologized at the end of the explanation. When she looked up to see Nate’s expression, he was only smiling fondly at her. His hand had continued rubbing small circles on her palm.

“You know that you could have let Ava know. She likely would have excused you for the evening,” Nate responded.

“And have her be more disappointed in me than she already is? No thank you.”

Nate frowned. “She’s not disappointed in you.”

“Yes she is. I’m a failure in combat and I still haven’t been able to figure out any information on the rogue leader that Falk informed me of.”

“ _ Glykia mou… _ ”

“No seriously, Nate, what is that? Is it Mediteranian?”

Nate couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, Leigh. You’ll have to add it to our list.”

Her self-doubt quickly faded with the warmth of his voice washing over her. He reached forward and caressed her face in both hands before leaving a chaste kiss on her lips.

“Ava is not disappointed in you. None of Unit Bravo is. Frustrated at the vague nature of Falk’s comment, yes, but not frustrated at you. We know you are working hard with us and though your combat skills may be…” he smiled sympathetically, “lacking, you more than make up for it with your mind and presence.”

All of her loathing drained away under the weight of his words. “Nate, I,” she started but Nate swallowed her words in another kiss. They let this one consume them, their affection warm and stifling in the cramped seating of the car. When Leigh pulled away to breathe, Nate shifted and lifted her from her spot and down into his lap. She squeaked and stared down at him in surprise.

Instead of continuing their heated kisses (like Leigh not-so-secretly hoped for), Nate wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest.

“And you,  _ agápi mou,  _ are going to sleep while I finish out the watch,” Nate’s voice rattled in his chest and vibrated through her body. She could feel her brain stretch to translate,  _ agápi _ ,  _ agape _ ? But her head was dizzy with the memory of his kisses and her exhaustion.

“Nate, I can finish the stakeout,” she drawled but the heat of his chest was already sinking into her skin.

He kissed the top of her head. “So can I. And I would rather you be well rested for work tomorrow, than continually drained until you fall ill. If anything of import happens, I will be sure to alert you.”

“But,”

“Shh…” he hushed her gently and began humming softly. The combination of his firm statements, warm body, and the soothing rumble of his chest left no room for argument. Leigh was already yawning and too tired to fight. As he hummed, she was brought back to the first time she heard him hum, that night in the kitchen when he had asked her on a date. The memory made her smile as she slipped into unconsciousness. Nothing of import happened of course, but Nate received quite a bit of teasing when he returned to the Warehouse with the smell of the Detective lingering on his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked the process of writing this one. Also, I feel like I should let everyone know these are unedited? Literally just first drafts that I write in a haze and hit post. I am doing it this way to develop a writing style and improve on just getting my words DOWN. I spend so long trying to edit and make things perfect that I never make progress. I am really happy with how I feel while writing these, and already I am at 13000 words. That's incredible from me who can scarcely sit long enough to write 100 words. So I am happy with my progress and I hope you enjoy my little detectives and the stories I write about them and the characters we all love so much. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day. 
> 
> Also, I want to do a special shoutout to every single one of you who leaves a like, comment, or goodness sakes reblogs my work. I am so incredibly grateful for your time and for taking a moment out of your day to share in the love that we have for Unit Bravo. One day I might do a special post with each of my thank you’s, but we have to get through the challenge first!


	8. Villain (M/F)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia faces off against two villains from her childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A bit of backstory in this one! Analise and Bobby were HUGE bullies to Mia growing up in Wayhaven and it is still tough on Mia to be around them. But Felix knows just how to make Mia happy. I have base character sheets for my Detectives, but I should really flesh them out.)

Mia prided herself on the fact that in truth she was afraid of very little. 

The incident with Murphy had been admittedly, one of the scariest things to ever happen to the Detective, but one she quickly overcame and resolved in her brain.

Analise Boudreau and Bobby Marks were completely different, and together, truly terrifying. Bobby on his own she could handle. Annoyed, yes, but it was easy enough to send him packing. Analise…

Why Analise had never left the town of Wayhaven would remain a mystery to Mia. Having suffered many years under the Analise’s reign of terror in their school life, Mia had been content to graduate and never give the woman a second thought ever again.

So when Analise Boudreau strolled into Wayhaven PD, looking like she just set foot off of “Keeping Up With the Kardashians”, Bobby Marks in her wake, Mia’s heart stopped mid-sip of coffee.

She spluttered out the beverage and turned to hide behind a flimsy fake plant. Tina, who she had been speaking with, turned with wide eyes to see what had Mia in such a fuss.

“Oh shit,” Tina whispered, watching Douglas flounder as he spoke with Analise.

“Shit is right! Fuck, do you think I’m hidden? Can you sneak me out the back?” Mia hissed, scanning for exits. It really should have been very simple for her considering she executed the Safety and Evacuation plans every month, but at the moment, she was a little panicked.

“Nope. Queen bi-,  _ bee  _ is on her way now,” Tina warned and took a large gulp of her own coffee.

Mia stood up and straightened her clothes, all reflexes being drawn back to high school. She stood as poised as she could look in her black jeans and fuschia tank top, willing it to be enough to not warrant any remarks.

“There you are! Oh Mia, so great to see you,” Analise spoke, words dripping in tainted ichor. She leaned forward and pulled Mia into the world’s most awkward side hug, squishing her breasts against Mia’s arm. Analise’s shimmery golden top cut nearly to her belly button, clearly showing the world she was without a bra, and her black pencil skirt (could it truly be called that?) barely even touched her mid thigh. 

Mia sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening that they deliver her from this plague.

“Analise,” her bright words false on her tongue. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Analise sneered as she pulled away and took in Mia’s clothes. “Really? Fuschia with your skin tone? Did you not learn anything from me in highschool?”   
Mia grit her teeth together but plastered a terse smile on her face. “Really, Analise. What can the Wayhaven PD help you with? Otherwise, we do have  _ jobs  _ to return to.” Mia spat out the word jobs hoping to jab at Analise with a bit of the vitriol she laced her words with. Analise Boudreau had never held a job in her entire life. And she likely never would.

“I’ve come to report a break in. A theft. A murder of my sense of safety and security,” Analise lamented and fell tragically to Bobby’s shoulder, reminding them all of his presence.

Tina, the sneaky traitor, had slipped away and into another room.

Bobby smirked and held Analise at the waist. “Yes,  _ doll _ , what do you have to say about the endangerment of one of Wayhaven’s most prominent families?”

Mia could think of a lot of responses, none of them appropriate for an on-the-clock Detective. The pet name had not been a mistake, but a clear jab to the way they had used Mia in high school. Tore her down and dressed her up, made her to perform in front of the student body lest the two of them ruin her publicly. Bobby had developed his trashy tabloid style of writing through slander against Mia in their Junior year, leaving Mia tragically alone and ostracized for the entirety of her senior year. They had been her own personal supervillains, but Mia was stronger now.

“I would be happy to take your statement, Ms. Boudreau, if you would step into our conference room.”

“I would rather make my statement in your office, thank you,” Analise turned up her nose.

Mia’s eyes narrowed in distrust. It was already fishy that Analise’s home had been broken into, given the state of the art security system her father had installed. It was even more suspicious that she came with Bobby Marks, though Bobby was naturally a leech for anything that glimmered.

“Statements are taken in the conference room, via protocol.”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you asking me to violate city law?” Mia accused.

It was Analise’s turn to narrow her eyes. “You sure developed a mouth on you. Finally grew a spine. Too bad you never grew into some beauty,” she hissed.

Mia could feel the sting of her words in her chest, blooming through her body in a rush of embarrassment. Still, Mia tightened her fists together to keep her composure in a valiant effort to save her pride.

“If you only here to attack me personally, I am going to have to ask you  _ both  _ to leave. If you care to make a statement, I will receive you in the conference room. Mr. Marks will remain outside,  _ as is protocol. _ ” Mia left no room for objection in her tone. 

Analise’s icy eyes could have turned a weaker woman to stone. But she had been right on one thing. Mia had grown a spine and she was not letting it break under her torment.

Before Analise could cut in with another biting remark, the front door of the station swung open. Mia could not decide if she should thank the nether for bringing him here, or cursing it for letting him see what was to come.

But Felix stood at the entrance, his dark skin reflecting gold in the afternoon sun, seemingly glowing just like his eyes. He looked particularly fashionable today, in his trademark skinny jeans and checkered scarf, an interesting fuchsia beanie hanging from the back of his head. 

They had all turned to look at who had come in, and though Douglas had been watching Analise and Mia with rapt attention, at the sight of Felix he grumbled and sat down in his seat. Tina stood, leaning against a doorway and smirked.

Felix, all bright eyes and dazzling grin, strode towards Mia, and only Mia. His eyes never left hers.

Analise had gaped upon seeing him which had turned into a predatory smile after she clocked Mia’s eyes on Felix. Analise straightened off of Bobby, and turned with a hand on her hip to drink in Felix as he approached. 

“And who is this?” Analise purred.

Felix paid her no attention. He reached for one of Mia’s hands, which had been balled into a fist at her sides, trembling with barely contained emotions. Upon unfurling her hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Hey gorgeous,” his voice purred over her skin, causing her to shiver under his intense gaze.

Normally Mia would have fired off a saucy flirtation, or even pulled him into an embrace, but in the presence of Analise and Bobby, she was frozen with indecision. The thought of them revealing anything about her high school experience was terrifying. It was also something that hadn’t come up in the time Felix and Mia had spent together. Too busy with missions and paperwork.

Mia could only soften a bit under his gaze and offer him a small smile. “Hi,” she squeaked out.

Felix immediately narrowed his eyes and quirked a brow at her before slinging an arm around her waist and turning to the other pair.

“And what do we have here? Wayhaven’s resident trash panda tabloid artist and… who are you?” Felix drawled lazily, squeezing Mia’s hip.

“I’m Analise Boudreau, daughter of Hector Boudreau, heiress of Boudreau Enterprises,” Analise had shifted her voice into something Mia was sure was supposed to be equal parts seductive and innocent. She also held out a ring bedecked hand between the two of them.

“Really, I could say I’m charmed to meet you, but I’m not impressed,” Felix grinned, making it clear he would not reach for her hand in any capacity.

If Mia had any doubts before (she didn’t), she was sure right then that she would do anything for Felix Hauville.

Analise gaped like a fish and Bobby, though mildly offended by Felix’s moniker for him, barely held in his laughter at this point. 

“Why… what… well, I never!” Analise sputtered.

Mia slung her arm around Felix’s waist and grinned with renewed confidence. “Ms. Boudreau, would you like to make a statement about your break in?” 

Analise could only gape between the two of them, mouth only closing to glare at them. In an exaggerated huff, she turned and snatched Bobby’s wrist. “We are leaving!” she growled.

“But what about…” Bobby started. 

“We are leaving,  _ now _ , Robert Marks!”

Bobby turned a magnificent shade of purple as he was dragged from the station. When the front doors slammed shut behind them, Mia squealed in place and turned, placing both of her hands on the sides of Felix’s face and smothering him in kisses. “I’ve never in my life, been more attracted to a man,” she said in between pecks.

Felix’s bright laughter filled the station and he held her waist tenderly. “Not even that night with the-” 

“Nope,” she interrupted.

“Well if putting an entitled brat in their place is all it takes, we are going to need to go to some rich people’s houses this weekend,” he grinned.

She pulled a hair’s breadth away and looked into his eyes with such seriousness the grin fell from his face.

“As if we are leaving my room after tonight,” she spoke huskily and low enough for only him to hear.

Felix’s skin turned alight with heat and his eyes shifted from concern, to embarrassment, to aroused.

As Felix began a remark of his own, Tina clapped from her doorway and stepped forward. Mia and Felix parted reluctantly but one hand of his never left her waist. “Alright lovebirds. Break it up. I’m sure I could call HR at this point, but who cares,” Tina smiled and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Hauville,” Tina regarded him.

“Poname,” Felix responded.

“Nice entrance,” she smirked.

“Couldn’t have done it without the heads up, Poname,” he returned her expression.

Mia looked between the two of them in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

Tina and Felix just grinned conspiratorially and Tina turned to return to her desk. “Wait, did you call him?” Mia stepped away from Felix and tried to read Tina’s face, which she masterfully kept turning away from her gaze.

“Felix! What does that mean?” Mia tried to interrogate her partner.

Felix just smiled, though it bordered on cautious. “If I answer can I still come over?” he asked sheepishly.

Tina gasped from her desk. “Traitor!”

This caused all three of them to laugh but Mia instead walked into Felix’s side and kissed his cheek.

She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “My door is always open for you, Felix.”


	9. Fight (L/M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leigh settles in for a quiet night away from Unit Bravo but her reading is quickly interrupted.

Leigh lifted the fuzzy sash of her sapphire robe in her hand, swinging it absentmindedly as she walked from the kitchen with her tea. The earthy brew of chamomile and honey set her to a place of belonging, especially when curled up on the vintage Victorian sofa she had managed to nad in a big city swap meet a few years back. Curled up with a good book and a fall-scented candle, it was the perfect place to be on a cozy autumn night.

She set the tacky mug (a gift from Tina, reading #1 Book Detective in bright orange letters) onto a cork coaster and settled into the couch, folding her feet underneath her. Leigh had already wound down for the evening, skin still warm and soft from a relaxing shower. It had been another long week, and though she cared for Unit Bravo, it was nice to have an evening to herself without needing to go on a midnight mission. In fact, the entirety of Unit Bravo had been dispatched to another county to help with a minor issue earlier that week while Leigh remained at the station.

Leigh settled in with the ancient tome that Nate had loaned to her, an original first-print copy of “The Count of Monte Cristo”, bound in red leather with still legible gold lettering. Just holding the novel was enough to set a thrill in her skin, let alone the mental thrill of reading a book that had sat on her to-read list for years. She gently opened the book, wary of cracking the spine, but she found the leather in healthy condition. She smiled softly at the idea of Nate maintaining his library. With the massive amount of material he had shelved, it was a wonder it was able to be maintained. But every book was carefully placed, handled, and regarded by his warm, brown hands. Her mind was particularly drawn to the way he had skimmed his fingers down the centerfold of a book...

She shook her head to clear her thoughts of a rabbit hole that she could spend hours traveling down. Instead, she turned the first page and began reading.

Not long into chapter one, there was a loud thud outside of her apartment. It sounded a bit away, like it had come from below instead of outside her door. Though she had snapped out of her focused reading, she attributed the noise to the young couple with a dog that lived on the floor beneath her and resumed reading.

A moment later, another thud sounded, this time closer.

It no longer sounded like an item being dropped or a dog being played with. No, this sound was heavy and echoing, a sound that set the hairs of her arm upright.

Leigh sat frozen, staring at her front door. It was locked of course, she had double checked before she sat down. Even in a town like Wayhaven one could never be too safe. The deadbolt was turned and the chain lock drawn over securely. While there was little she could do for a supernatural threat, this setup would at least slow them down.

Drawn out of her thoughts again, the thump resounded, this time right outside her door. While the thudding had ceased, Leigh could hear the faint sound of heavy breathing.

Leigh reached into her pocket for her cellphone, just in case. The figure outside inhaled deeply and loudly, an unnatural breathing pattern. She hovered her finger over the call button and waited. And waited, and waited. No more noise came from outside her door, but Leigh knew better than to drop her guard. She hadn’t heard the footsteps walking away, so to be safe, she hit the call button.

A bright, musical ringtone sounded from the other side of her door. Leigh looked to her phone in confusion, confirming that she had indeed called Nate. She set the book down gently and stepped with light feet to the door. She could hear someone fumbling with their pockets and when she looked through the peephole, she could make out the familiar clothing of Nate, who apparently stood outside her door. 

She quickly undid all of the locks and opened the door. “Nate?”   
The figure’s head swung to her direction, and her muscles relaxed. It was indeed the towering form of Nathaniel Sewell outside her door, who stood now, flashing Leigh a particularly toothful grin. 

“Nate, why didn’t you let me-”

“Detective,  _ my darling _ , I just had to see you,” he purred and stepped up to her, grasping one of her hands and using his other to lift a lock of her hair to his nose. Leigh could feel the heat rush to her cheeks and Nate’s eyes flashed down to look at the milky skin of her neck before returning her gaze.

Immediately, Leigh’s heart seized. Not in affection or embarrassment, but in fear. Something was off.

“What? You normally let me know you are coming. Weren’t you on a mission?,” she said, skepticism lacing her voice as she took a step back from his space.

He took three steps toward her, backing her into her apartment and allowing the door to shut behind them. “I know,  _ my love _ , but we just returned tonight and I had to see you. I cannot bear to be parted from you for long.” His voice dripped in honey and while his words settled in her chest, her gut tightened. While they were indeed words that Nate would say, the way he said them was… sultry while clearly calculated. There was no easy flow to his words. They were almost… rehearsed.

Leigh backed away from him again, but his hold on her hand tightened and he continued to step into her space. Leigh’s nose crinkled and she looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “I need you to let go of me, Nathaniel,” she spoke clearly.

Nate’s eye twitched and caught her attention. She looked into his eyes and saw them rimmed with blood red color. She had never seen such a vibrant red in eyes before, if but once. With Murphy his eyes had been entirely blood red. 

Nate’s grip loosened on her hand but instead he slid his hand further up the sleeve of her robe to dance his fingers along her bicep.

“Sorry,  _ dearest _ , you are just so warm. I have been so cold without you,” he responded.

Leigh’s spine stiffened with tension. No. Something was  _ very  _ off.

Just then her phone rang in her hands. She looked down to see “CA Ava” on the screen. Nate winced at the noise and Leigh could have sworn she heard him growl. She answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Leigh!” Ava’s voice was frantic, a tone Leigh had never heard before from the usually stoic woman.

“Yes, Commanding Ag-”

“Is Nate with you?” Ava cut her off.

Leigh looked up at Nate’s face where he now sneered down at her, his eyes dark and intimidating. “Yes,” Leigh spoke apprehensively, heart pounding against her ribcage.

“ _ That’s not Nate _ ,” Ava’s statement cut Leigh to the core. Her whole body froze with fear as she watched Nate’s sneer turn to a chaotic, hungry grin.

Shivers raced down her spine. Not Nate’s speed and strength made it easy to pry the phone from her hands. He held the phone to his face and spoke in the darkest voice Leigh had ever heard. “Too late, Commanding Agent. She’s mine now,” he mocked and tightened his grip on Leigh’s bicep. Blinding pain shot up her arm, Not Nate’s grip nearly snapping her arm under its force. Leigh cried out in pain and she could hear Ava yelling over the phone as it clattered to the floor. Not Nate slammed his heel onto its surface and effectively smashed the phone to bits.

Fear coursed through Leigh’s blood as she began to thrash against his hold, but Not Nate threw his head back, a manic laugh resonating through the apartment. “Oh Detective, it is far too late for help!” His voice had morphed from his normally suave and calming voice to something twisted and terrifying. The voice grated on her ears like grinding gears in an ancient machine.

He inhaled deeply again and Leigh swung out with her free arm for a weak punch against his head. Not Nate dodged the blow easily and threw her to the floor. Her head swam with pain and her vision blurred as she pushed herself up off the floor. She had just enough time to look up and see Not Nate flick his hands out, extending razor sharp claws from his fingernails. Leigh gasped and rolled out of the way as his hand came down, splintering the wood floor beneath them. 

Leigh clambered away and Not Nate laughed again, taking measured steps to reach Leigh. She neared her kitchen and when Not Nate was close enough, she swung out with a vase in her hand. A vase that coincidentally held flowers Nate had sent to her before he left on his mission. The glass shattered against Not Nate’s head.

Not Nate roared in pain and Leigh wasted no time in dashing away to her room. She slammed the door shut and raced for her window, hoping to get out onto the fire escape. Leigh heard the thrashing of items being strewn about her apartment and the sharp shattering of glass. 

“Oh I can’t wait to drink the blood from your veins!” His grinding voice echoed through the small apartment. Not Nate splintered her door in half with a punch just as she climbed out of the window and onto the fire escape. Rain poured from the sky, drenching the streets of Wayhaven and making the descent down the metal fire escape quite slippery. On one step, she managed to slice her foot open on a piece of broken metal and screamed in pain.

“Detective,” Not Nate sing-songed from the level above her. There was no time for her to hesitate or bind her wound. She scrambled to keep running away and cursed herself for choosing to spend more time in the library than the combat room.

Not Nate climbed down the outer edge of the fire escape, grip sure and strong as he swung down to her level. As he dropped a floor and grabbed the nearest railing, the metal shrieked and bent under his weight. The sound echoed in Leigh’s ears, amplifying her fear.

She cried out as she reached the streets, gravel crunching its way into her open wound. Not Nate slammed to the ground and sped forward, grasping her weakened form. His razor sharp claws dug shredded her robe and dug into her skin, grip tightening against her weakened arm and waist. 

She cried out again and swung her wounded leg out to try and catch the back of his knee. Her swing landed true and he crumpled to one side, but she only succeeded in allowing his claws to drive further into her skin and throwing herself off balance.

Not Nate righted himself, laughed again and inhaled against the rain. “The scent of your blood… you smell like sweet apples and pine,  _ dearest _ ,” he snarled in her face. “I can’t wait to drain all the blood from your veins.”

Opting for a last ditch effort, she headbutted him, causing them both to cry out in pain. His release slackened and she wrenched away from him, only to hear a shout through the thunderous rain.

“ _ Leigh _ !” 

Not Nate growled and tracked a figure as they sped toward the fight. Leigh only had a split second to see Not Nate grin before he launched himself forward.

Leigh couldn’t track his movement until Not Nate was upon real Nate. They fought against each other, neither one gaining the upper hand. Leigh watched in horror as they punched and tore at each other and she gasped to see one of them shifting, changing. Suddenly she was unable to tell either of them apart in the fray.

In the battle, an Agency-grade taser had clattered to the ground and Leigh used their distraction to reach for it. Though it was a non-lethal weapon, she still had to be right when she made her choice. 

“Stop!” She screamed and both of their heads whipped toward her. She held the taser like she would a gun, and even with her wounds she held it with steady hands.

“Step away from each other!” she shouted and both of them continued fighting until the shrill sound of electricity powering up caught their attention. The two Nate’s froze and broke away from each other, glaring at the other before turning their gaze to Leigh. They raised their arms up simultaneously and she darted her eyes between them, desperate to make out any differences.

Somewhere in the fight Not Nate had shed his claws and both of them were bloodied, but healing. In the exact same layered clothing, with the rain drenching the three of them, she wavered between her choices.

If she shot Not Nate, the real Nate would keep her safe. If she shot Nate… She didn’t want to think of that ending.

“Leigh,” one of them stepped forward and she whirled on him, finger hovering right above the trigger.

“Don’t move!” 

He stopped instantly and his jaw tightened.

Neither one of them seemed to have any clear markers to indicate their true nature. Her brain raced to determine the difference between them but came up dry.

She had seen this scene in books before. An action, a question, something that only the real Nate would know. It was the only way to determine her beloved in the downpour.

Maybe she could stall for the rest of Unit Bravo? No, one of them was bound to snap and she needed to make a decision now.

Leigh stood bleeding in the street, each moment passing brought more pain and uncertainty. If she didn’t make a choice soon, she would pass out and become an easy target.

The gears clicked in her brain. A moment that only the two of them would know. 

“The night we exchanged letters!” she shouted and they looked to her face, arms still raised. “We talked all night about poetry. Who is my favorite poet?” She questioned and waved the taser between the two of them. 

They both responded without hesitation.

“Whitman.”

“Yates.”

Eyes narrowed with conviction, Leigh turned and shot the Nate on the left. He seized and fell to the street in a sopping heap. She sneered down at his limp body. 

“I hate transcendentalists.” She spat. With the immediate threat gone, she felt her vision blur and darken. The taser fell from her hands and her body crumpled after it.

Nate rushed to her side and held her gently against him. He lifted Leigh into his arms and cradled her close to his chest. He could already hear the cries of Unit Bravo approaching.

“Leigh,  _ mon coeur,  _ stay with me,” Nate’s sure and stable voice washed over the blurriness in Leigh’s mind. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up into his warm eyes. “I’m just…” she sighed. “Tired.”

His expression softened and he exhaled over her. “You’re going to be alright.” 

She nodded and rested her head against his chest, grounding herself in his heartbeat. 

She faded to sleep to the noise of Unit Bravo arriving and the rush of wind against her face.

When she woke up in her bed at the Warehouse, Nate was by her side. He sat reclined in a chair, one hand holding a book and the other cradling her empty hand.

Nate straightened and set down his book as she stirred awake, eyes brightening as she blinked away the sleep.

“Mmm, what time is it?” she asked, stretching her free arm and wincing at the pain. Her arm was bandaged tightly and she could feel similar wraps shift against her stomach.

“ _ Amor _ ,” Nate’s tender tone reassured Leigh that everything was alright. “It’s Saturday, if that tells you anything.”

She gasped and bolted upright, wincing when her body protested in pain. Nate reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her back to bed. 

“It’s alright. Everything is already taken care of.”

“The others? Are you alright?” she asked.

Nate’s eyes crinkled in the corners and he smiled. “I’m fine. You on the other hand, need to rest.”

“I’ve been asleep for almost 2 days…” she complained and Nate’s grin fell.

“Yes, well you had quite a fight. And scared me half to death.”

Leigh scoffed. “It wasn’t my intent.”

“I know,” his hand covered hers and stroked the back of her hand with gentle circles. 

“What was that?”

“A doppleganger. Apparently our simple mission a few towns over was not so simple. They had already made their way to Wayhaven by the time we realized what creature we were up against and before we had tracked it.”

“How did you find out it was coming for me?”

Nate’s expression hardened and he looked away from her. “Well, we must have ran into it when we first arrived. I had been missing my phone, though I hadn’t known it until hours later. Presumably, my visage and phone were enough to clue them into my identity. Though we are not sure how it found your location. The Agency is going to… speak with them soon.”

Leigh nodded and leaned her head against the pillows.

“Though, I am curious. You made it out into the streets and there was quite the wreckage in your apartment.” Leigh winced and thought about her apartment, wrecked yet again.

Nate gently squeezed her hand and drew her attention back to him. “In the apartment, how did you know?”

Leigh scrunched her nose and took a moment to recall the memory. “Well aside from him inhaling deeply every 5 seconds,” she huffed, “He… They…” she could feel blood rush to her cheeks. “They were very insistent and only used terms of endearment in English.”

Nate’s surprise quickly faded into adoration. “I’m glad our mutual love of language helped to distinguish me apart from the doppleganger.”

Leigh smiled softly and squeezed his hand. “Besides, when I called him Nathaniel he didn’t even correct me.”

Nate laughed and pressed a kiss to the back of Leigh’s hand. “Indeed,  _ tres cher _ , that is quite the giveaway.”

Leigh chuckled and sunk into the pillows, feeling the weariness in her bones. She swallowed heavily and began to ask, “Nate, could I ask for-”

He stood and pressed a kiss to her crown. “I’ll get you some tea.”

And in her heart Leigh knew that she had chosen correctly, in more ways than one. 


	10. Blood (J/M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juniper gets her blood drawn.

There was once a time that Juniper had feared the sight of blood.

As a child with dewy soft skin, marred by bruising and needle pricks with angry shades of red and purple. The scene of doctors and nurses drawing vial after crimson vial from her already weak body was new to her then. A time she only knew doctors as evil people who wanted to hurt her. 

Eventually, the three vials would not be enough. Soon they were taking six, eight, ten vials from her at every draw, desperate to comb through her blood for traces of an invisible disease. She learned it was faster and less painful if she just stayed still and numbed her senses. Blood stopped bothering her at age 9. 

Knowing what she knew now, Juniper wondered why her mother had never brought her to the Agency to be examined. But Juniper did not live her life in what-ifs. 

Rebecca had been markedly absent at many of the appointments, defaulting to her sister, Leah for assistance in the doctor’s visits. When she was home Rebecca hovered, not quite sure what to do with her own daughter.

Baby Juniper had barely moved, still as death in her crib at night. Milestones at a glacial pace for her. Eight months passed and she could not lift her head. Two and a half years passed and she could barely stand without assistance. 

Rebecca hadn’t known there was an issue.

It took constant prodding from Aunt Leah, childless herself but more aware, before Rebecca took her to a specialist at 3 years old.

Doctors had been stunned as to why it was only now that Juniper was being brought in. Rebecca persuaded them out of their questioning.

Eight years later and doctors were still running tests, forcing new treatments upon Juniper, who at 11 just wanted a semblance of normalcy. The doctors had struggled identifying certain traits of her blood, especially in regards to how it interacted with her body and various medicines. By this age, Juniper simply looked away when the needles came into view, dragging her thoughts elsewhere. 

At 14 she had finally received a cocktail of autoimmune disorder diagnoses.

Used to managing herself, Juniper quickly adapted to regimented prescription times, routine physical therapy, and a diet meant to keep inflammation to a manageable level. Part of Juniper was relieved to have answers to her chronic pain and physical incapability, the other part of her wondered why it had to be her.

The rare occasions that Rebecca was home she hovered, always hovering, over Juniper.

_ “Are you feeling alright?” _

_ “You look pale. Why don’t you sit.” _

_ “When was the last time you took your medicine?” _

In a fight Juniper had later come to regret, she had lashed out. “I’ve stayed alive this long without you. No need to start caring now!”

Immediately the words stung Juniper’s own heart and tears pricked at her eyes. She ran away in embarrassment and cried in her room. Her mother left two days later.

When Juniper turned 20, Rebecca made an effort to connect with her daughter. She took time off work, not much, but more than she ever had, and made sure she was home when Juniper returned for breaks from university.

Slowly, over the next two years, they found a balance.

Rebecca put more effort into learning about Juniper and making up for her past absences. Juniper tried to understand without knowing the whole picture. Now at 28, Juniper could see where her mother had tried to help her in the past, but a demanding job and being a first-time (unwanted) parent had made things remarkably difficult.

So when Juniper ended up, yet again, in another hospital bed, the familiar pinch of a tie squeezing her arm was a second thought in her mind. With IV’s and monitors dangling from her limbs, she didn’t flinch when Elidor drew blood.

“Can’t you just be my personal doctor?” Juniper begged playfully while her blood filled a fresh vial.

Elidor’s deep chuckle echoed off the white tile floors, the richness brushing the edges of Juniper skin with warmth.

“I’m not sure the Agency would allow that, little bush.”

She had seen many doctors in her lifetime, but Juniper had woken in a panic after being knocked out by the thralls. Her eyes trailed up to a massive half-human creature standing over her with tools and a clipboard and she was unable to stop the short scream that pried itself from her lips. 

Rebecca had surged in, shoving a recently hung-up phone into her pocket. Her presence brought some clarity to Juniper’s situation, though her heart rate remained spiked on its readout. Rebecca hurriedly assured Juniper that she was at an Agency location and that everything was fine. A different, more human-like doctor came in and began checking Juniper’s vitals for clearance.

Elidor had quietly walked out and Juniper hadn’t seen him again until they began running tests on her blood.

Juniper still cringes thinking of her initial reaction. She had apologized profusely upon seeing him again, with frantic explanations and bowing in respect.

Elidor simply laughed and accepted her apology, kindly leading her to her next test.

Between that and almost dying at Murphy’s hands, the two of them had become regular friends. He had adopted the nickname “little bush” for her, in reference to both of her names being bush-like plants. The name still made her smile. 

Now she laid in a hospital bed, Elidor bandaging up her arm from the draw site and marking down information on a clipboard.

“But my doctors at the hospital are…” she shuddered thinking about the lab where she had first met Murphy. She hadn’t been keen on returning. “Not nearly as pleasant.”

Elidor gave an amused hum before turning to check on the readings of a separate monitor.

“Besides, I’m in here so often now. I’m pretty sure everyone in the medical ward knows who I am now.”

At this Elidor’s lips turned up in a half-smile. “I’m sure the entirety of the Agency already knows who you are.”

Right. Special blood and all.

“Still, I’d rather come to you with my medical issues.”

“Is Doctor Tuft not sufficient?”

Juniper looked away in shame. “Doctor Tuft is great. She just…” 

“Isn’t me?”

Now Juniper looked to see Elidor’s broad grin as he penciled in more information.

“Exactly,” she dropped her head back against the pillow. When Elidor no longer replied, she looked up at the green-tinted ceiling. “I’m still grateful for all your help you know. Especially with the Trapper ambush a couple of weeks ago. That and making sure Mason healed properly.”

“It’s my job, Detective. But it is still nice to hear the gratitude.”

Juniper let the next moments pass in silence as he worked, thinking about Mason in his bed, wounded and exhausted from a choice she had made. Mason had retained his roguish humor before falling asleep, but Juniper could clearly see the pain and weariness that had washed over him. The thought still made her heart ache.

Elidor checked the bandages on her thigh one last time before nodding in approval. His voice drew Juniper from her thoughts.

“I think you are good to go, little bush.” Elidor affirmed.

Juniper nodded and waited patiently as he removed all of the monitors and her IV. “Besides, I’m sure you are eager to leave,” he spoke with a small grin.

She spun her head to him, confusion riddling her features. “That may be but, hey. Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, around ten minutes ago a certain presence came into the hallway. I can feel his tension even in this room.”

Juniper’s heart beat a little faster at the prospect of Mason waiting for her. Really, it shouldn’t have surprised her by now, him randomly popping up wherever she was. Still, it filled her with warmth to think about seeing him again.

Elidor chuckled and smiled with bright white teeth down at her. “As I said, eager to leave.”

She gasped and feigned her shock. “As if I would ever want to leave your office!”

That only made him laugh again, a sound she soon echoed in response.

“Truly, thank you again, Elidor. I do mean it in the highest regard that I appreciate all your doctoral care for me.”

Elidor smiled knowingly and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Indeed, Detective. If only half my patients were as pleasant as you.”

Juniper smiled and swung her legs off the bed. After a few tentative steps, allowing the blood to flow back to her legs, she walked to the door.

Upon opening it, Juniper’s eyes landed on Mason. He leaned against the wall across from them, hand frozen in mid-flick of his lighter. His stormy grey eyes were locked on hers.

They stared at each other for a moment before Elidor cleared his throat behind her. She jumped out of his way, hearing him chuckle and nod in greeting to Mason before gliding down the hall.

When she turned to Mason again he was right in front of her, leering over her and shrinking her against the wall.

Juniper could feel her cheeks flush with blood at the sudden proximity and her gaze traveled from the crystal dangling from his neck up to his now molten eyes. 

“Mason,” she greeted in a small voice.

A lazy smirk curled across his lips. “Detective. Sure are getting close with the doc. Didn’t know you were into roleplay.”

Confusion and a flash of anger sparked in her mind at the accusation. Then it clicked in her brain while watching his stormy eyes.

Her brief indignant expression faded into realization. Her eyes widened when she gave voice to her thoughts. “Oh my god, Mason, are you  _ jealous _ ?”

He sneered and narrowed his gaze at her. “Of course not.”

“Oh you so are,” she teased. He slammed his hand down by her head with a growl, trapping her in. She didn’t flinch.

She smiled and let her gaze follow her hand as she placed it over his beating heart.

“No need to be jealous, sunshine.” Her words dripped in adoration.

“Not jealous,” he snapped.

Under her fingertips she could feel his muscles begin to relax. “You’re the only one for me,” she whispered and looked back into his eyes.

At her bold statement she watched multiple emotions flash through his eyes. From frustration to tenderness to confusion for the longest beat. They finally settled into teasing, a playful guard she knew he had put up to end the conversation there.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind trying role play. If you’re up for it.” 

Juniper rolled her eyes and rose on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his jaw.

He caught her chin in his grip and held her still while he leaned down for a bruising kiss. She drank in his presence and her skin rose with goosebumps under the public display. Even as she pulled away he chased after her lips.

Juniper spun on her heel and began walking away from the medical unit. “Where are you going?” He growled.

“Suddenly, I don’t feel so good,” she mused, adding distance between them. After a moment she added, “ _ Doctor _ .”

Mason barely contained his groan of satisfaction before he raced after her, slinging an arm around her waist as she laughed against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I originally started this one with the intention of making Juniper injured. But instead I wanted to focus on her history of illness and her relationship with Elidor. The two are buddies btw. It was fun primarily focusing on a non-LI related interaction. But of course, I’ve got to add our flirty vampire in there somewhere.)


	11. Transformation (F/M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Mia watch a caterpillar emerge as a butterfly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you have never listened to “The Gambler” by fun. I want you to listen and prepare to cry. Every time I listen to the song, I cry, even when I sing it. For the longest time I have dreamed about a love as depicted in the song, and for whatever reason, as I finished writing this, it popped into my head as I thought about Felix and his family. I have yet to consider if any of my Detective’s would turn vampire, so this could really go either way. But I do love the idea of them spending forever together. Please forgive a young woman’s late night sobbing. I just want Felix to be real. Sorry that this one is a little short but I am so filled with longing that I need to go lay down. Only wake me up if your name is Felix Hauville.)

The lifespan of a caterpillar turned butterfly could last anywhere from a few weeks to a few months.

Specialists studied the transformation from chrysalis to butterfly, but few took time to appreciate the beauty in the cycle. Even if the original creature was liquified and reformed into something brand new, the process held a unique beauty to it. That even when a situation grinds you to dust, reduces you to next to nothing, you can still rise out of the depths, becoming so much more than you ever were before.

“Mama! It’s coming out!!” 

Mia smiled and adjusted the child resting on her hip, lifted high enough to see the pale green chrysalis shake in place on the trellis of their house.

“It is! Are you ready, Ivy?” Mia asked, throwing a glance over her shoulder.

She caught Felix’s eye, a couple of yards away as he rocked their youngest child, Amber, asleep in his arms. The shining spring sun glinted off of his rich umber skin, reflecting glints of gold in his bright amber eyes. Seeing him with their daughter, eyes filled with love and belonging, made Mia’s heart constrict in her chest. After so many dangerous years working for the Agency, it was truly a blessing that they had found time away, time enough to raise two beloved daughters.

Mia beckoned him over with a nod of her head and he moved carefully over to them. Ivy shook in Mia’s grasp, little hands clutching at Mia’s overalls in an effort not to reach out for the emerging butterfly.

“Is it time?” Felix whispered, eyes darting between the cocoon and his sleeping child. The moment he leaned in, Ivy’s little sepia-toned hand grasped the lapel of his vest, wrenching him closer, as if his supernatural vision was not sufficient enough to see the cracks in the cocoon.

“Papa shh!” Ivy shushed but her eyes remained locked on the butterfly. Flecks of orange began to peek through the cracks, spurring the whole family to watch as the butterfly wriggled its way free.

Though Mia knew that everything would be fine, as nature often intended, she noticed that she held her breath along with Ivy, waiting for the moment the butterfly was free. 

As they waited, Mia’s thoughts drifted to how they had come to this moment. First meeting Felix in her office when she had been the Detective of Wayhaven all those years ago. The battle with Murphy, learning about Felix’s mother and the Echo World, fighting supernaturals and bringing others to peace with the Agency. All of the scars that she had obtained, both on her body and on her heart. Her heart clenched at the memory of the night she and Felix had decided to have children, the joy and the love that they shared. How his golden eyes sparkled after she woke to a sickened stomach and he told her that he could hear a tiny, second heartbeat when he was near her. Asking theAgency for time off and locating a plot of land for a home. Felix had insisted that he build the house himself, to “provide for his family”. He gave up on the second day as he struggled to secure wooden beams together for the foundation. The months leading up to their home being finished, painting the house in vibrant colors in whatever shades they wished. The struggle of her first birth and how Felix had paced outside, desperate to be by her side. The pure look of love and adoration he had when he first held his daughter. How he had surprised her with the realization of a heartbeat a second time four years later. 

Mia could not have wished for a better life partner than Felix Hauville.

As the monarch emerged, all three of them let out a jubilant sigh, eyes filling with mirth as the butterfly spread its gossamer wings.

“It’s so pretty!” Ivy bounced. Mia balanced her on her hip and reached a free hand toward the butterfly. Though it was wary, with a small amount of coaxing it crawled onto her finger. Ivy’s amazed gasp was enough to keep Mia smiling for a week.

“Hold out your hand, baby,” she said and Ivy dutifully lifted her open palm.

Mia urged the butterfly to transfer perches and Mia stifled a laugh when her daughter went still.

Felix grinned broadly and moved so his chest rested on Mia’s shoulder.

“Look at that, Ivy. I think he likes you,” he mused.

“Papa, Princess Featherwings is clearly a girl. And we are best friends now. She told me so,” Ivy’s little voice held so much conviction that no one dared to question her. Mia couldn't help the shaking in her chest from suppressed laughter.

“Oh, then I apologize Princess Featherwings, I didn’t know we were in the presence of royalty,” Felix cradled Amber but offered a mock bow as best as he could.

Ivy giggled until the butterfly began to beat its wings. It took off from Ivy’s palm and she all but squeaked in terror.

“No! Come back!” Her little hands grasped for the sky, but the butterfly had already flitted away.

Tears filled her brown eyes and she began to sniffle.

“Oh, oh baby don’t cry,” Felix said, having to lean back a bit to bounce Amber into a further sleep.

Mia lifted her hand to grasp her daughter’s hand and squeezed it gently. “It’s okay, Ivy. Princess Featherwings had to go to her kingdom. Her people need her,” Mia reassured.

Ivy huffed for breath, her black curls bouncing on her head. “But we were best friends.”

Mia smiled reassuringly. “And sometimes you have to let friends go so they can be where they need to be.”

As Mia spoke she realized the words hit harder than she intended. She shared a somber glance with Felix, before she looked back at her daughter.

“Besides, I’m sure we will see her in the garden. Maybe we can go out after lunch and try to find her.”

Ivy’s eyes, wet with tears, glistened with renewed excitement. “Promise?”

Mia leaned forward and kissed the crown of Ivy’s head, causing her to giggle. “I promise. Mama’s honor.”

Ivy smiled and reached for the ground and Mia set her down to watch her run into the grass and spin in circles.

Felix took the chance to lean into Mia and kiss her briefly. Mia wrapped an arm around his hip in response.

“She’s got your sense of wonder,” Mia commented with a sly grin.

Felix offered a bright smile of his own. “And your stubbornness.”

Mia gasped in mock offense. “I have never been stubborn in my life!”

“You’re proving my point now, love.”

Mia’s heart melted at their banter, still fun and light after all their years together.

She planted another kiss on his cheek and he turned and captured her lips again, the motion smooth and full of lasting affection. They kissed for only a moment before Ivy interrupted with a long cry of, “Ew!” 

Both of them laughed as they pulled away, Felix stealing one final kiss as they parted. Suddenly, Amber began to fidget in his arms, stirring awake from their movement.

Mia watched her baby’s fists raise in a stretch, eyes squeezing together before opening to a brilliant shade of gold.

Golden amber eyes, just like her father.

Mia reached out and took Amber into her hands, though Felix took a moment to wrap his arms around both of them in a hug. 

“I don’t know where I would be without you,” Felix whispered to Mia, watching her with a serious golden gaze.

The words plucked at Mia’s heartstrings, drawing her that much closer to him.

“Fate brought us together. And I can’t imagine life without you. Without our children, without the life we have built together.”

Tears pricked at Mia’s eyes, and she watched as Felix brought a finger between them, allowing Amber to latch on to it with all her baby strength.

“Fe…” Mia choked. “You’re making me cry.”

Felix allowed a pleasant smile to draw over his lips.

“I love you, Mia.”

Mia choked on a sob. “I love you too, Felix. You are my light,” she sniffled. “You are the brightest spot in my universe.”

As babies do, Amber took that moment to gurgle and spit up onto her onesie. Both Mia and Felix shook with laughter, the quaint normalcy of the situation bringing them back to the present.

Felix pulled away from Mia, leaning to place a gentle kiss on Amber’s head.    
Mia pulled a cloth from her overalls and wiped at the mess. She looked back up at Felix.

“What brought that on, honey?” Mia asked, still sniffling away the remnants of tears as she cleaned up Amber.

Felix just grinned and looked out to their yard where Ivy attempted poor somersaults and laughed at the spinning world around her.

“Just thinking about my girls and the road we took to get here,” he said, a note of wistfulness creeping into her tone.

As Ivy rolled over and sat up, she turned toward her parents with wide eyes.

“Mama! Papa! I hear Auntie Ava’s car!” she cheered and began to wobble to her feet.

Mia and Felix whirled to stare at each other in shock.

“How could she…?” Mia started.

It was Felx’s turn to get a little misty eyed. “She has super hearing,” his voice tinged with awe.

Mia smiled broadly, though it dropped from her face a moment after.

“Wait. I wasn’t expecting Ava. Do you think,” Mia trailed off.

Ivy had raced out of their sight but they both could hear her shout from the driveway.

“Aunt Morgan! Uncle Nate!” Ivy squealed.

Mia couldn’t help but drop her head with a resigned laugh. “I’ll go prepare the kitchen. You go greet them. It’s been a while since we have seen them,” she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

Felix smiled and began to turn away from her before Mia called his name. He turned back to Mia and she only beamed at him.

“I love you.”

Felix transformed into pure sunlight, radiating light and happiness to the whole world. “I love you more.” 


	12. Flesh (J/M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juniper takes a moment to examine all the bruises on her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! THIS IS SLIGHTLY SPICY! It's still necessarily rated M... but it definitely hints at the E rating. I had this one written a while ago, and boy I really struggle venturing into the E territory. One day... But still, more musings from Juniper and a hint at her and Mason's new developments in their relationship (I swear... the fic with their "development" is coming...). Hope this is alright!

For years Juniper had hated mirrors.

Her childhood memories were laced in bruises and sallow skin, reflections of gaunt hollows and jutting bones. Her teen years, also spotted with recovery and needle pricks still made her flinch when she would see pictures.

The road to recovery and healing was long and hard, and Juniper had suffered for years at the hands of doctors and invisible diseases that sapped her life. Still, she counted herself lucky compared to others.

Juniper had spent years bathing in complete darkness, preparing for the day purely based on touch. The clothes laid out on the counter, hairbrush and hair tie next to them, interesting textures against the cold granite of the bathroom. Anything to keep from looking at the skin marked with her body’s failure to survive on its own. Eventually, she was able to turn the light on, was able to stomach her visage in the sharp reflections of the mirror. 

And now Juniper stood, looking at a different set of deep purple bruises that marred her flesh. Her seafoam green tank top clung to her skin, sticky with sweat. Rivulets dripped down her neck and she could feel a bead of it slide down the ridge of her spine. The sensation made her shiver and slap a hand to stop it’s trail. The action made her wince, muscles sore and stinging from the brutal training from Adam. He was insistent, “Your fragility would be greatly improved if we spent more time in combat training.”

As she pulled her arms back forward, she twisted her arm to see the large purple bruise that mottled her upper right bicep.

“Juniper!” Tina’s voice, shrill and insistent, made Juniper jump but not before her right side collided with the door jamb. Sizzling hot pain seared down her stomach and thumping sharp pain all along her right arm. She had been focusing on not spilling her hot tea that she hadn’t noticed she had veered too far to the right and walked straight into her door. The tea burned through her chiffon shirt, searing her stomach and staining her top. 

Juniper, to her credit, held in exclamations and noises of pain, momentarily proud of herself for not dropping the coffee mug and breaking it. 

“Oh June, you okay?” Tina rushed to her side with a napkin in hand and began to take away her mug. Juniper turned to Tina with a strained smile.   
“Thanks, Tina. I’ll be alright.”  
Tina pursed her lips and drew her brows together, not fully believing her. “Alright, just, remember to look up, okay?”

That had not been the first time she had run into a door and it likely would not be the last. She then turned in the mirror and lifted her shirt to examine the fading green bruise on the back of her left hip. Fortunately, not from clumsiness this time.

It was Farah’s turn to spar with Juniper, though they both were loath to actually do it. But Adam stood nearby, arms crossed and stern expression forcing them to obey.  
“Detective! Duck! If someone swings at you, dodge! Don’t just stand there!” Adam barked.  
Juniper winced and favored her right side. “I’m trying!” she shot back, more vitriol in her words than Farah had ever heard. Juniper heaved for breath, dripping in sweat and covered in red welts. Even with Farah pulling her hits, Juniper’s skin took to visible pain like a horse to water. 

“Adam, maybe we should take a break,” Farah stepped easily to the side as Juniper swung for Farah. Juniper overextended her arm in the process and nearly spun herself to the floor.   
“No. You’ve been sparring for ten minutes. The Detective needs practice.”  
Juniper clenched her teeth together. “I’m right here, Adam. I know what I can handle,” Juniper stared at Adam, green meeting green in harsh stares. They glared at each other for several moments before Juniper dropped her gaze, sucked in a breath and righted herself. “Again, Farah,” she breathed, pulling up her hands for a defensive stance. 

Farah frowned in sympathy but began a new assault, less incensed than the bouts prior. Juniper focused on dodging, a punch here, a swipe there. Determination rooted in her bones and she vowed that she would hit Farah at least once. 

“What’s that?” Juniper punched out with a point and as Farah turned with round eyes, Juniper dropped low and swiped her leg out, effectively tripping Farah. Though the vampire’s superspeed kept her from falling to the floor, it also allowed her for a retaliatory shove, landing Juniper painfully on her left side. 

More pain, bright and encompassing shot up her spine and her muscles locked up in reflex. She lay on the floor, eyes shut, panting for breath and unable to move.   
“June!” Farah zoomed forward and knelt next to Juniper. “Why aren’t you moving? I didn’t paralyze you did I? June?”  
June just heaved air in and out of her lungs, skin melding to the training mat and anchoring her to the pain. There was a second set of footsteps she felt through the floor more than she heard through the pounding in her ears. Slow, methodical. 

“You gonna live, sweetheart?”  
When had Mason come into the training room? No doubt long enough to watch her get her ass kicked. Which was every time.  
Juniper took a moment to swallow and found that she was able to nod, but the pain kept her from moving her lower half at the moment. She could vaguely hear Nat debating with Adam the effectiveness of her combat training. Farah still knelt next to her, afraid to touch her for fear of making things worse. She did not hear, feel, Mason leave.

After a minute of just breathing, forcing the pain out through her breath, she opened her eyes, the lights of the training room causing her to wince again. It was bearable now, present and stinging, but bearable.

She rolled to her good side to help prop herself up and Farah let out a heavy sigh. “I’m so sorry, June.”  
Juniper shook her head and clutched her left side. “It’s fine, Farah. Training hurts no matter what.” She lifted her shirt, stuck to her skin, and exposed the area where she hit hardest. The area was angry, maroon, and already darkening. She winced and looked up at Mason, whose eyes flashed away from her wound and met her gaze. Wordless, she could see the swirling grey in his eyes. She nodded once and he turned away, stalking out of the room while reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. 

Now the bruise was fading, nearly two weeks later. 

Juniper was prone to bruising and any injury that could show itself on her skin. She couldn’t remember a time in her life where she hadn’t been bruised, cut, or scarred. But now, as she looked at the bruises across her body, she felt a brief flash of pride. She was surviving, evident by their dark purple splotching. The dead did not bruise and she was beginning to thrive.

She let the tank top fall from her fingertips, fluttering back to stick against her stomach. Her green eyes returned to the mirror and she saw another set of bruises, completely different from any of the others on her body. These bruises made her smile softly in the mirror. It had been a couple of weeks, but these bruises only changed shape and location, remaining present at all times on her skin.  
After Juniper had given in to Mason’s incessant flirtations and invitations, she continued giving more of herself to him, something she wouldn’t have allowed months ago.

She had pulled away, breathing heavily against Mason’s shoulder during their second night together.  
“I won’t break,” she whispered to his skin.  
“What?” Mason asked though he had heard her clearly.

“I might bruise easily, but I won’t break. You can…” Juniper trailed off and more heat flushed her cheeks.  
“I can fuck you? Kind of have been, sweetheart,” Mason chuckled above her.   
“Mason,” Juniper hissed but her bark had no bite.  
“Then what? Use your words, I can’t read your mind.”  
Juniper swallowed heavily and kept her gaze on his chest. “You can mark me,” she whispered as quietly as possible.  
Mason smirked. “That’s kinky.”  
Juniper swatted at his shoulder and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “And pain play too? Damn, never thought you would lean that way.”  
Juniper wanted to hit him again but she figured that would prove his point.   
“It’s embarrassing,” she said looking up at him. He just stared at her, lips curled in what he could only perfect as a neutral smirk.

He raised an eyebrow. “Where?”  
“What?” she blinked out of the storm in his gaze.   
“Where do you want to be marked?”  
Her stomach dropped and she was sure her entire body was on fire. How was she supposed to answer that? It was bad enough already. Wordlessly, she kept her gaze on him with half lidded eyes and tilted her neck. She was sure something at the edge of her vision twitched. His eyes turned to lightning and he wrapped his hand around her neck again, pulling her in for a devastating kiss. Mason drained the air from her lungs and she only hoped that in some way, he felt something more than arousal. 

When she couldn’t breathe anymore and panted for breath, his lips remained hungry against her neck. These were bruises she could savor. 

Of course, though she wouldn’t look at them in the mirror of the training room, he had left bruises in other places than her neck. In examining the bruises on her neck and collar, she hadn’t noticed Mason’s presence at the door of the training room. She finally met his gaze through the mirror and inhaled sharply.

Mason smirked and walked forward, a wolf stalking the lamb.

They held each other’s gaze as Mason sidled up behind her, his presence dwarfing her form. Juniper swallowed.  
“Hi,” she murmured. Mason reached a hand up and trailed it down her arm. She shivered against his warm hands. Her skin was already hot from training, how could it be hotter?  
“You’ve been training.” A fact and a question.   
“Yes. I figured that gaining some strength through personal training would help me improve in combat training. And I can go at my own pace.”  
Mason’s grin turned wicked. “I could be your personal trainer,” his voice dripped with sin. “Pretty sure you could match my pace.”  
All the blood rushed to Juniper’s cheeks. Weeks ago she would have shoved him away and stalked off, tired of his innuendos. Now her stomach fluttered with fire.

“I walked into that one,” she commented with a smile.  
Mason moved from her hand to her hip, from her hip to her waist. He pulled her back against him and placed a kiss on her neck.  
“Mason, I’m sweaty,” she remarked, already feeling the sweat of her skin sink into the fabric of his clothes.  
“And?” his voice washed over her ear when he dipped, lips and teeth on her neck.  
“Mason,” she breathed out, all hesitation gone in favor of his touch. When she breathed in all she could breathe was him. His hold on her waist, his teeth on her neck, the bulge against her backside.  
He hummed against her throat and the vibration made her moan.  
“Fuck…”   
He grinned against her skin. “Dirty mouth, sweetheart,” he teased. The next phrase he whispered against her skin was twice as dirty and just as enticing. 

“Mason, the door. We are in the training room,” it was more of a comment than a complaint.   
“Don’t care,” Mason grumbled, divesting Juniper of her sweat soaked top.   
All of her protesting ceased when she turned and kissed him headily. Their lips melded together, desperate and full of longing, all reservations gone. 

Thankfully, if Unit Bravo suspected that the new bruises that appeared on her shoulder the next day were from anything but training, no one said anything.


	13. Apology (E/A)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART ONE OF TWO  
> Evangeline acts before she can process the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. First of all HUGE thank you to @elmshore for giving me the prompt “Don’t you ever do that again!” (angst). Will Adam ever be happy? I really need to write a happy Adam. Second, this is PART ONE! That’s right people, we leave off on a cliffhanger. I am actually happy with this one? I don’t write angst very often, mostly because I cry while I write it (RIP fellow empaths). But will they see a happy ending? Read on to find out!

Evangeline didn’t think in the moment. Her muscles fired of their own volition and she was unable to process how fast her body was propelling itself toward its target. The only thought that screamed in her head, pounded from her bones, howled in her soul, was his name.

_ Adam _ .

It was an incredibly stupid move, launching herself in the path of the displacer beast that was hell bent on tearing Adam to shreds. He was grappling with a separate beast of his own, it’s razor teeth gnashing for his throat and spraying spittle over his face, tightened in anger and concentration. With a deathgrip on its lashing tentacles and using his free hand to keep the beast from his vitals, his backside was completely unguarded.

A factor the other displacer beast did not hesitate to take advantage of.

And Evangeline herself did not hesitate to protect him.

Fire raced in her blood, spurring her toward the beast, leaping in mid-strike, poised to flay Adam’s flesh.

The displacer beast did not notice her charging toward it until she tackled it to the ground, wrestling a knife into its side. Hot blood gushed over her hand, slicking the knife but Evangeline only twisted it deeper, carving for its organs.

The beast yowled in fury and lashed out with its tentacles, the spikes on one end rending the flesh of her right arm to ribbons, the other tearing into the right side of her waist.

Her body screamed in agony but her mind propelled her forward.  _ This will not be my last fight _ . She clung to the statement in her head, using it to will herself to shove the beast away.

Blood pounded in her ears and streamed from her right side down her leg. The beast rolled several times from the force of her shove and landed on its paws, crouching down and hissing in challenge.

She had one shot.

Her right arm, now useless,  _ thank god she was left handed _ , hung limply at her side. Evangeline crouched low herself, hazel eyes flashing, returning the challenge to the beast. She turned the knife over in her left hand, clearing her mind of any distractions. Of the visions of Unit Bravo that tempted to flash through her mind’s eye.

The beast pounced, launching its massive form several feet into the air, right toward her. She knew it was a ruse. Knew that the displacer beast’s power of projecting its location a few feet forward meant that it hadn’t pounced yet. Until  _ now _ .

And again, Evangeline’s body moved on pure, primal instinct.

The vision of the beast passed harmlessly through her as she rolled forward. Just out of the path of the true beast and as its front paws landed, she kicked her feet up at the last second, flipping the panther-creature over onto its back. With a final swivel, she drove the knife downward, straight through the stunned beast’s exposed neck. It’s black paws kicked, jaw dropping open in a howl filled with ugly acrid blood before the entire beast fell slack to the floor.

For the first time in several moments, Evangeline sucked in a breath.

With no time to waste, blood still pumping on adrenaline, she whirled to the rest of the clearing, only to find Mason, shaking his arm free of displacer gore, stomping his target into the ground with a swift press of his boot.

Evangeline watched Farah, who stepped hesitantly toward her with wide eyes, one hand pressed to her already healing thigh.

Nat stood, covered in blood, whether the beast’s or her own, Evangeline did not know. She only knew that Nat’s shocked expression was one of awe, fear, and worry.

Her eyes finally landed on Adam. Whose entire body shook with contained fury, whose crystalline green eyes betrayed him.  _ Fear _ .

In the next blink, Adam’s hands were on her shoulders, lowering her shaking form to the ground. Was she shaking or was it him?

“ _ Don’t you ever do that again _ !” He roared, but she could see the way his eyes glistened. “Evangeline, oh what have you done?” His bark had lost its bite, his voice beginning to waver as he tore through her clothes to see the wounds. She barely processed the way his breath stopped. She didn’t want to look at the damage.

Her brain was foggy, vision going blurry as cold seeped into her bones.

She watched his mouth move as he shouted orders, but she couldn’t hear them. She could only look up at his face, splattered with blood and eyes flashing with a myriad of emotions. 

And as he cradled her in his lap, tearing his shirt to shreds to attempt to staunch the blood flow from her arm and leg, Evangeline choked out a wet, humorless laugh.

His eyes focused back on her, angry and confused at the laughter.

“Seems familiar, eh, Adam?” her voice shook. She was freezing. A part of her brain registered the symptoms again, shaking, cold, light-headed. Shock. She could feel warmth at her back, but only because she knew she sat in a pool of her own blood.

With trembling lips she spoke, “I’m not sorry.” Her voice rasped against her throat, raw and painful. His fingers faltered in their movements as he met her gaze again. “From the day I met you,” she winced as Adam’s hand pressed firmly into her side, his whole body tight.

“Don’t,” his voice was so small, also raw and painful.

“I knew Adam. We fought for so long,” she coughed and blood spurted from the open gashes. She could see the way his nose twitched and knew it must be hell for multiple reasons. To see her bleeding out, to smell the strength in her blood and fight his primal urges. “I would do anything for you, Adam. Again and again.”

She watched him choke on air, grind his teeth and shake his head. “No, Evangeline, they are coming. I won’t lose you. _ I can’t lose you _ .”

Evangeline was so tired. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open. But his eyes were so green, sparkling like emeralds in the midnight glow of the moon. 

She reached her left arm up, the lines of five familiar scars raking from her wrist from the last time they were in this position.

But now…

She closed her eyes against the tears on her cheeks. The visions of Unit Bravo flashes behind her eyelids. Visions of teaching Farah about paper airplanes, late night tea with Nat, time on the rooftop with Mason, just existing in their presence. And visions of Adam. The day they first met, their first huge fight, Adam’s confession after the Trappers. Stronger visions of Adam holding her through a nightmare, their first kiss on the steps of the Warehouse, their love blooming in memories across her mind. Blindly, she reached for Adam’s face and rubbed her thumb over his cheek.

The weakest of smiles pulled across her face. “ _ Tu omnia _ , Adam.” And it felt like it might be the last chance she would get to say it.

“I trust you,” she whispered before her hand fell slack to the ground.

“Evangline.  _ Evangeline _ !”

“Adam, we have to get her closer to the road,” Nat’s voice trembled from her spot in the clearing.

It was too familiar. Too close to before. She had survived so much with him, why now? He couldn’t deal with this pain again. He was certain that his heart was as shredded as her arm. Again because of him. Because of his mistakes. Because of his failures.

“ _ Adam _ ,” Mason crouched next to him and forced his gaze away from Evangeline’s limp body.

“We need to move, now.”

Adam nodded and lifted Evangeline into his arms, sending prayers to the gods he had never heard back from.

But he would do anything for her.

Unit Bravo began carving a path through the forest. Nat racing before any of them to flag down the Agency vehicles they could hear in the distance, desperate to put space between the draw of Evangeline’s blood, Farah speeding before her. Mason ripped at any obstacles in their way, breathing short breaths only when necessary.

All of them had the same thought.

This was not like last time.

But they would ensure that she would make it. Evangeline Windsor was a member of Unit Bravo, and she would not die.

The moment the doors shut behind Evangeline’s limp body, Agency medics rushing to her aid, Adam was doused in cold water.

Figuratively, because the shock of seeing her taken away from him hit his soul like a truck.

Literally because Farah had just dumped a bucket of water onto him.

He turned slowly to her, unable to formulate any words in the moment.

“Her blood. Was too strong,” Farah huffed, partly from Evangeline’s blood, and partly from holding in tears. Adam could see several bruises on her face, already healing, and already drying blood underneath her nose. Not from the displacer beast attack.

Adam turned to find Nat, huddled against a Agency vehicle, her knees pulled to her chest. He could see the blood on her knuckles and the way she gripped her body into a tight ball.

Mason stood next to her, and Adam swore he could see Mason’s hand trembling under the weight of the cigarette in his fingers.

Adam opened his mouth but no words came out.

_ I’m not sorry _ .

And Adam knew in the weight of her statement, she would do it again. For him, someone who would heal when she could not.

_ Tu omnia, Adam _ .

And the force of her declaration, the finality ringing in his ears, sent him to his knees.

None of them remembered the drive to the Agency. Not the Warehouse, where she could feel like home, but a cold Agency hospital, where doctors struggled to save Evangeline Windsor’s life.

Rebecca sobbing when Elidor came out to explain. 

“It’s not like with Murphy,” his voice echoed into the waiting room. “Murphy only had five fingers, five tears to repair on her left arm.”

He took a deep, levelling breath.

“The displacer beast has dozens of spikes in each tentacle. Dozens of wounds for doctors to sort through. The wound on her side caught some organs and the brachial artery in her arm... The Agency is doing everything they can.”

Elidor let the words hang in the room. Mason launched his fist through the tile of the wall before storming off down the hall. Farah stared blankly at the floor.

Nat comforted Rebecca, allowing the grieving mother to cry into her shoulder. Nat kept her gaze trained on Adam, her oldest friend, who hadn’t spoken since they drove Evangeline away.

Adam was a Roman statue, frozen forever in restrained anguish.

They could vaguely hear Elidor excuse himself back to the operating room.

No one dared to speak.

And Unit Bravo waited.

Mason returned a time later, leaning in one corner with arms crossed. Rebecca had sobbed herself to sleep and Nat had brought her to a different room where she could rest nearby.

Farah and Nat sat on either side of Adam, who remained in the same position.

For hours they waited, the steady lights overhead and windowless walls showing no passage of time, but they could feel it. Every second slipping away without good news. Every footstep that echoed could mean her recovery, or her…

Unit Bravo continued to wait.

The next time the doors swung open, Nat and Farah leapt to their feet as Elidor greeted them with a somber look. His dark complexion was ashen, eyes sunk into his skull with weariness, red around the edges. It was with a firm, yet solemn voice that he spoke.

“ _ I’m sorry. _ ”


	14. Throat (M/F)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia wants to leave her mark on Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this one like three times. I’m not fully satisfied with it, but I think I like the direction it ended up taking. Ignore the first bits, focus on the end. I really struggled with this prompt because I don’t know how I want to tackle blood drinking and the LIs yet, so what is the next best thing? Hickeys. But, since apparently my prudish hands are incapable of writing any more than frantic kissing, here we are. I swear... soon I will conquer this modestyblock. Also I cannot remember for the life of me if Sera said that Echolian was just a spoken language. Forgive me if it is, look over my transgressions, friends, and enjoy!

Detective Mia Fuller had a new favorite hobby: spoiling Felix Hauville.

Their relationship had extended past six months, much to the surprise of some members of Unit Bravo. Everday Felix found a way to make Mia smile and in her happiness, he reflected his own. She could find excuses to go and see Unit Bravo for "patrol debriefings” (as if much of note happened in Wayhaven) and Felix would find paperwork that “needs to be reviewed by the Detective”. Both meetings often ended in blank pages and stolen moments together. Until Ava would chase them apart under the threat of more training.

It was a symbiotic relationship built of laughter, kisses, and lots of touching.

Mia adored touching Felix, finding new ways to make the young vampire squirm under her touch. Felix's knees would crumple if she gave the right attention to a certain spot under his ear. Likewise, Mia folded when his mouth was on her throat.

And oh how they loved to be each other's undoing.

Mia could proudly wear the marks of Felix’s affection, unabashedly wearing t-shirts that allowed the hickeys to be on display. Unfortunately, she was unable to do the same. It was a great source of frustration for her, how she could wear his marks or any of his clothing to make his presence clear. Felix did not fit into Mia’s clothing and no amount of time spent showering Felix in affection would leave a mark on his rich skin. And Mia had tried.

She knew, both in her heart and in the many ways he would vocalize it to anyone in the vicinity, that Felix was unashamed of their relationship, flaunting it happily. But unless they spoke to him, it wasn’t clear that he was taken. Mia in her heart was not a jealous person, but after their interaction with Analise, she wanted every being that looked at him to know he was off limits.

Okay, maybe she was a little jealous. Though she knew in her heart that Felix would never stray from her, knew with every fiber of her being that they were connected in ways that people couldn’t see. But still, Mia thought it would be nice if he had something to remind him of her.

  
  


During a dreadfully boring shift at the station in which no crime, paperwork, or otherwise work related issues needed solved, Mia allowed herself to ponder this mystery.

Her thoughts brought her back to a memory of the evening they shared at the carnival. Recalled the way she skillfully bobbed for apples and won the glittery unicorn necklace in return.

The shock and awe in Felix’s amber eyes at receiving his first (unnecessary) gift.

She had gotten him several other things since then: a boombox (which Mason cursed her for), Bluetooth headphones (a remedy to Mason’s problem), countless movies and music.

The idea sparked in her head. He still wore the unicorn necklace. The only gift he could wear on a daily basis. She kicked herself for never thinking of it before. Honestly, the idea seemed a little ridiculous, but she hoped he would appreciate it. 

Mia pulled up her computer and began combing various websites to find exactly what she wanted.

An amount of money she would not expose til threat of death, several days of waiting, and hours of wrapping later, Mia stared upon her creation.

Exactly 31 boxes of various shapes, sizes, and colors littered her living room, each one wrapped with precision and sealed with a hand-written tag.

Every one of them addressed to Felix Hauville.

It was silly, she knew, but Mia loved to give gifts. The idea of spoiling Felix was one she delighted in often, nearly as often as he praised her for her radiance. Didn’t he know he was the brightest sun in her universe?

As she looked over each gift, she hoped that he would come to know just how much he meant to her, starting with these gifts.

Mia began piling them in her hall closet, a place no one dared to venture but her (organized chaos was still chaos). As she piled in the last few presents, a knock sounded on her door.

She knew without looking that it was Felix, could feel it in the tug of her heart, always inching its way toward him.

“Just a minute!” she called, shoving the remainder of the gifts into the closet before selecting a bright sunburst orange wrapped gift, about the size of her palm.

She shoved it behind a couch pillow on her way to the door.

“Ahem, who is it?” she asked at the door, knowing full well who stood behind it.

“The sexiest vampire in Wayhaven,” his bright voice purred.

She gave a fake gasp. “Why is Morgan at my door this late at night?” she teased.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, only to make Mia laugh and open the door to Felix’s pouting face.

She put both her palms on his cheeks and kissed him briefly. “Oh, you meant the sexiest vampire in existence!” 

His megawatt grin brightened her soul and he leaned in for another peck on her lips. “Alright, you saved yourself with that one.”

She smiled and grabbed his hand. “Come on in, I was just going to start some dinner, if you don’t mind?”

Felix licked his upper lip, eyes trailing over her body for a moment before meeting her gaze, eyes liquid. “I never mind if it's you.”

She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks but she turned on her heel, pulling him into her apartment and toward her kitchen. Felix took a seat on one of the barstools, asking her questions about her day and rattling off information about his own.

“And then Agent Fuller said that Unit Alpha was dropping by the Warehouse next week on their way to a different mission. You should have seen Ava! I could have sworn I heard her teeth crack with how hard she clenched her jaw,” Felix laughed.

Mia smiled and turned off the burner where her fried rice was cooking. “I’m sure Ava has quite the dental bill to repair all of her shattered teeth. Especially when Tane and Maaka are in town.”

Felix nodded and fell silent. Mia turned to look at him after she plated her food, only to find his chin resting in his hands with his eyes fixed on her.

“Everything good, Fe?” she quirked an eyebrow.

He nodded and sighed, a soft smile remaining on his face. “I’m so happy it's you,” he said. 

Mia couldn’t help the way her heart skipped a beat at his satisfied tone. She lifted her plate and walked next to him, who had turned to face her. She leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I couldn’t imagine choosing anyone else.”

Mia delighted in the way his body shivered for a moment, eyes closed for a beat too long, drinking the moment in.

She nudged his thigh with her hip and walked away beaming. “Come on. We’ve got a new episode of Drag Race and no Morgan to chew us out if it's too loud.”

Felix did not hesitate to follow her.

Many hours and Youtube videos later, Mia lay draped over Felix’s lap, revelling as he raked his hands through her hair. They basked in each other’s presence, content to lay with each other in the silence. After several minutes, she could feel the familiar buzz of a phone. She knew it wasn’t hers, she had left hers in the kitchen. It continued buzzing but Felix just kept running his hand through her hair.

“Are we avoiding the inevitable tonight?” Mia whispered, eyes closed.

Felix just sighed and dug the phone out, causing Mia to sit up and rest her head on his shoulder.

Thankfully, no urgent issues, just an alarm reminder that he had patrol duty in 15 minutes.

Mia reached for his free hand and rubbed her fingers over his skin.

“I could just not go,” he mumbled.

Mia scoffed. “And risk Ava’s wrath in the morning? We both know that is a terrible idea.”

Felix didn’t say anything, only stared at where their hands lay in his lap.

He mumbled another sentence, this one too low and incoherent to make sense in Mia’s tired brain.

“Hmm?” she asked wordlessly.

When he didn’t respond again, she sat up and turned to look at his face. She could see the remnants of the blood in his cheeks, having clearly said something.

“Is everything alright, honey?” she asked him. Her heart clenched when the corner of his mouth twitched in a smile at the endearment. But then it fell back into a slight frown, one that worried her.

“It’s stupid. Nothing, just…” he fumbled. “I guess I better go.” He moved to stand up but Mia placed a hand firmly on his chest, could feel his heart thumping rapidly.

“Felix, what is it?” It was unusual for him to get quiet and somber. Quiet and happy was more common, but she could tell he was holding something back.

He inhaled and looked into her eyes, his amber orbs filled with anxious energy.

“Can I stay?” he asked.

Mia twisted her face in confusion. “Hun, we just talked about-”

“After patrol. Can I stay?” he interrupted.

Mia narrowed her eyes, searching for his meaning. He had stayed over before. Plenty of times. After nights of binge watching movies, singing karaoke, after nights of intimacy… Staying over wasn’t new. But the way he spoke was different. He was asking a different question. Mia’s eyes widened and she blinked in realization.

The question wasn’t “Can I stay tonight?”. The question was, “Can I stay, forever?”

When Mia didn’t respond immediately, Felix launched into senseless babbling, trying to talk his way out of it. She twisted where she sat, reaching behind the couch cushions but she could feel him trying to leave. She twisted again towards him and placed both her palms on his chest and pressed him into the cushions.    
“Felix Hauville, you stay right there and don’t move,” she ordered him and his eyes went wide for a moment before he gulped and nodded.

She stood up and chucked away the pillows,  _ why did she have so many goddamn throw pillows anyway _ ? Mia thrust her hand into the couch cushions and searched, eventually closing her fingers around the present she had placed there earlier.

She pulled it out with a smile and knelt before Felix on the floor. Mia offered the gift to him and he stared at it, unmoving.

“Well, come on. Open it. Just trust me, Felix.”

Without hesitating, he said, “I always trust you Mia.”

She could have jumped him right then, but now was not the time.

He reached forward and carefully took the orange box from her, nimble fingers slowly tearing into the paper.

Mia bit her lip as he took off the lid, eyes widening when they fell on the gift.

He lifted the chain and let the single golden dog tag dangle, glinting in its place next to a perfectly polished golden house key.

Mia could feel blood rush to her cheeks and it was her turn to ramble for an explanation.

“It might seem silly but I get to wear proof of you whenever I want. Whether its a hickey or your scarf or even your t-shirt. You can’t exactly fit into my clothes but I wanted a way you could keep me with you, even when I’m not right next to you,” she rushed the words out.

Felix remained silent as he turned the dogtag over in one hand to read the inscription.

Around its border was engraved ivy, in the center read the Echolian word for home, and underneath it were Mia’s initials.

“Sorry, is it right? Nate and I worked on it and cross checked with other Agents from the Echo world but we couldn’t get a clear answer and-”

Mia’s rambling was cut short when Felix tackled her to the floor in a kiss. The kiss was full of adoration, happiness, sunshine and cinnamon. It was full of a promise and unspoken words, whispered on the edge of silence in hungry touches and fistfuls of affection.

It was also, quite heated for the moment. When Mia needed to breathe, she tried her best to breathe in him, he was her light, her air, her reason to wake up in the morning.

As Mia gasped in lungfuls of his presence, Felix left his love in delicious bruises on her neck, each one turning Mia’s core to molten lava.

“Felix-” she moaned and heard him groan against her, their bodies clawing to get closer than the laws of physics would allow.

And as much as it pained her, she called out his name again, a bit more serious in tone. When Felix pulled away, his pupils were blown wide, only a thin gold ring giving them his usual brightness. They both panted for breath, loathe to part.   
“Of course you can stay. Whenever you want. Even if I’m not home, you can be here. I want you to be here,” Mia spoke and watched Felix’s eyes shine with happiness and tears.

“Mia-” he started before swallowing heavily, tamping down the feelings ready to burst from his skin.

Mia pushed herself to sit upright, allowing Felix to fall back on his heels. She took the necklace from the floor and lifted it. “May I?” she asked.

He nodded, eyes never leaving hers and allowed her to place the necklace around his neck, the key next to his unicorn necklace and his heart.

Mia leaned forward for another kiss, one Felix hungrily returned, before his phone began beeping.

She groaned and pulled away, but Felix reached out and held her to him, groaning against her lips, “Leave it.”

Mia rolled her eyes and pushed away from him with a smile. “Go on patrol. Think of me and come home soon.”

She didn’t miss the way he swallowed heavily, both at her implied tone and from the happiness coursing in his blood.

“Are you sure?”

“Felix.”

“Can’t skip this one night?”

“ _ Felix _ .”

He sighed and smiled, bringing his fingers up to touch at the words engraved by his heart.

“I’ll be home soon,” he said and in a flash, he was standing at the front door. 

“Felix!” Mia called again.

He stopped and looked at her over his shoulder.

“I’ll have more gifts when you get home,” Mia said, voice dripping in suggestion. Only she knew that she meant both physical gifts and  _ physical  _ gifts. 

Felix whined and threw her a cheeky grin. “I’ll be counting the seconds, babe.”

And Felix was gone, but he would be home soon.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't... just skip this please. Go to Day 16...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON’T READ THIS
> 
> For the sake of perfectionism... I have to post this. But it is still garbage. Even going over it a day late it is garbage. Just please, skip to Day 16. I’m not even tagging 31 Days of Wayhaven in this. Ugh I hate it.

No one could deny the attraction between Detective Leigh Meadows and Agent Nathaniel Sewell.

From the start, Nate’s easy smile and kind manners drew Leigh in like the tide, easing her to warmer shores. It wasn’t easy to break through the storm barriers she had put up after Bobby, but with Nate, she was trying.

And Nate never gave up, the pull between them only growing over time. They had opened up to each other, inching closer and becoming more intimate with each other.

Nate had been requested by another facility to teach some new recruits about the area and to instruct them in proper English. He was only meant to be gone for a couple of days, but Leigh still felt his absence like a hole in her chest.

He had left her letters, one for every day he was meant to be gone. Her fingers itched with the temptation to open them all in one sitting, desperate for her fill of even a drop of him. But she managed to restrain herself and open each letter day by day. His words were full of passion, poetry, and the occasional riddle. Each solved tiddle led her to another note, hidden in a book in his library. It was quite an extensive plan for a couple days of being gone, but Leigh loved him that much more for taking the time to put them in place.

_ “I miss you with every blink, for every moment I cannot see your face is a moment not worth living.” _

_ “Today is the day I return to you, the day I get to hold you in my arms again and the day my lungs take their first breath of air since I left you.” _

His words clung to her mind like a second skin, one full of warmth and happiness in their shared affection. She repeated his words like a mantra in her head, longing for the moment she could see him again. On the day when Nate was meant to return, Leigh had dropped by the Warehouse to make some scones for them to share over tea. She was curious to hear about the recruits he had trained and where they had inevitably come from, and they both enjoyed the occasional sweet treat.

She stood in the kitchen, chopping apples into small bits for the apple cinnamon scones she was preparing. It wasn’t a difficult recipe, and she was sure she would have plenty of time for them to bake before he arrived.

A loud shout and the rapid noise of footsteps down the hall caught Leigh’s attention, causing her to slip and slice into her finger. The cut wasn’t deep, but it stung and blood began to seep out of the fresh wound. She wrapped her finger in the towel, hearing more footsteps and shouting echo through the Warehouse. Curiosity quickly morphed into concern as Leigh raced down the hall toward the noise. She could hear groaning and shouting, more footsteps.

Upon arriving, the front door was ajar, revealing the gloomy afternoon rain that had been pouring down since morning. Mason stood at attention before Nate, who was leaning against the open doorway, heaving for breath.

“Nate? What’s going on?” Leigh asked, stepping closer, now able to see how Nate favored a sizable gash on his right side. A gash that wasn’t quite healing.

She gasped and began to rush forward when his head snapped up, eyes boring into hers. His pupils were blown wide, shining with pure terror.

“Get her out of here!” Nate growled, the sound like a slap to her face.

“Nate, are you-” Leigh started and flinched as he shouted.

“Now!” Nate pressed one palm to his head, eyes screwed shut and grimacing. “No, not her, stop it!” He was bent over in pain, but the way he held himself now seemed to signal that his head was more of an issue than anything.

“Ava!” Nate screamed. “Where is she? She knows what to do. Get Ava now!”

Farah stood conflicted. “Do I get Ava or take Leigh?” she asked, voice full of worry.

She began to pull on Leigh’s arm and her resistance to the motion caused Leigh to drop the bloodied towel that had been staunching the cut to her finger. It fell silently to the floor, but the action might as well have been a gunshot for how Unit Bravo reacted.

It was as if all the air in the room was gone. All three of them went still, the scent of her enticing blood rushing to their senses. Only Mason snapped out of it and turned, growling. “Farah, now!”

Suddenly, Nate stood upright, eyes locked on Leigh again. No, her hand, where a single droplet of blood dripped to the floor.

Mason, eyes more frantic than Leigh had ever seen them, snapped. “Farah, get her out of here!”

Just as he finished, Mason was flung against the wall of the Warehouse, the cracking noise of plaster reverberating throughout the room. Nate stood with his hand out in one moment, and the next Farah was sliding across the floor, away from Leigh.

Nate stood now before Leigh, towering over her, imposing. “Hello, my sweet, seems you brought me dinner.” His words were honeyed, but acrid as they reached her ears. It was all too familiar to the doppelganger incident from weeks ago, but something else was off.

She could feel the shift in the air. Every once in a while she could sense when Unit Bravo was using their pheromones on someone, and now they seemed to ooze from Nate, having no effect on her.

She watched his face twist in confusion, so reminiscent of when she had first met Murphy. Upon noticing his failed attempt at using pheromones, he grabbed her hand roughly, grasp far too tight. Leigh cried out in pain as his grip ground into her bones. He lifted the hand to his lips, Leigh helpless against his vampiric strength.

Before he could get a taste of her blood, a fist came down, making solid enough contact with Nate’s jaw that he went flying away. His tight grasp on Leigh’s wrist dropped, but not before wrenching her shoulder out of its socket. Leigh screamed and grasped at her shoulder, fire racing up her arm and tears pricking at her eyes. She had never even broken a bone before, and could have sworn he ripped her arm clean off with the amount of pain that bloomed in her shoulder. 

Farah, brought back to the present by Leigh’s scream, scrambled off the floor and to Leigh’s side. 

“Farah, I-” Leigh started, but it was too much to force words out between the pain and processing what happened next.

In the next moment, air rushed by the pair as Ava joined the fray, face stern and hands flying. Leigh heard Ava’s grunts and whispered growls of Latin. Nothing seemed to deter Nate, not even seeing his best friend. In fact, he had lost all regard for her at all, slamming his fist into her gut. Ava, the strongest of them all, took the punch, but grunted and coughed for air. 

“I’m coming for you, my sweet. If not now, then later!” His voice grated against Leigh’s ears, manic and not like Nate at all. The statement was a promise, one that wiggled itself underneath Leigh’s skin and buried itself in her mind.

Ava and Mason kept reaching for Nate’s arms, strategically keeping their bodies between Nate and his target.

Between the two of them, they managed to pin Nate down, struggling even through their combined strength. Mason landed another punch to Nate’s face, solid enough that Nate’s head cracked back onto the floor. The sound was another stab in the gut. If she hadn’t been crying from the pain before, Leigh was crying now, seeing the monstrous behavior that had overtaken her beloved. 

In a moment of clarity, Nate slowly lifted his head, blinking away the sickening blow to his skull from moments before. He used the time to look at Ava. “Ava, please,” he pleaded. “Get her out.” He managed through gritted teeth and Leigh shook her head, unable to process what was happening.

In her confusion, Farah grabbed Leigh again, and even through her fighting Farah’s grip, she managed to drag Leigh away. As she was pulled away, she could hear Nate’s low growl morph into a shout, then a scream, and then laughter as Leigh got further and further away.

Farah locked them into the conference room, which coincidentally also served as a safe room. The steel door slammed shut and Farah secured the lock into place, one arm still holding Leigh upright.

Leigh held her shoulder, openly weeping as Farah settled her into a chair. Farah’s usual bright smile was now a terse frown, tinged with unease, pain, and worry.

“Farah please, what is going on?” Leigh begged, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I… It’s hard to explain,” Farah responded, fidgeting by the door. Her golden eyes flashed between Leigh and the door, before she rushed to the corner of the room.

“Try,” Leigh choked out on a sob.

Farah bit her lip and eyed the door, a loud thud from upstairs sounding.

“Right, um,” she started, fingers rifling through the first aid cabinet she had opened. “Remember our tier classifications? You’re three, I’m six?”

Farah looked to her and Leigh nodded.

“Nate has two right? Tier seven and tier x?” Leigh nodded again. “That was X.”

Leigh clenched her teeth together and whimpered as she leaned against the back of the chair. Farah winced and resumed pulling things from the cabinet. Desperate for more information, Leigh continued speaking.

“But something was wrong. That wasn’t Nate,” Leigh prompted.

Farah nodded. “Kind of? Not really, but yes. I really don’t understand it. It… doesn’t come up much.”

Another loud crack from upstairs, this time followed by more laughter. The sound caused the hairs on Leigh’s neck to stand on end, chilling her to the core.

“He knows I’m still here.”

Farah swallowed thickly and nodded, hesitant. “Leigh, I swear he doesn’t want this. He never does.”

Leigh nodded and trained her eyes on the door. “Can you help me with my shoulder?”

Farah turned, leaving the cabinet open and walked back to Leigh, arms full of various wraps and containers.

“I can’t… I can’t set your shoulder. I don’t know how and I don’t want to hurt you,” Farah responded.

Leigh nodded and grimaced, another shock of pain lancing up her neck. Farah winced. “But I can wrap your finger. It looks pretty bad, but you shouldn’t need stitches at least.”

The realization struck Leigh and her eyes widened. She had an open wound, leaking the scent of blood into the room, a temptation for all supernaturals. “Oh Farah, I’m so sorry, is it too much?” she asked.

Farah sighed and picked up Leigh’s hand, gently wiping at the wound with antiseptic. “No. Fortunately, I’m of sound mind and I drank recently. It’s… strong. But it’s nothing like after Murphy.”

“Farah-”

“Save it,” Farah tried smiling, but it was more of a grimace. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m stronger than a little papercut.”

The attempt at a joke made Leigh laugh, the movement lancing more pain into her shoulder. She cried out again, the shrill noise piercing Farah’s ears.

“I’m such rubbish at being a nurse,” Farah grumbled, securing the bandage around Leigh’s finger.

“At least you are trying. Thank you.”

The sentiment wasn’t lost on either of them, and through the momentary silence, they heard nothing. No sounds of fighting or yelling.

The silence was a whole other level of unnerving.

Both of them waited, hardly breathing to hear better. Leigh’s human hearing did nothing but Farah swiveled to the door. “Footsteps.”

“How many?” Leigh asked, sitting straighter, heart racing with new adrenaline.

“One.”

And suddenly, Leigh could hear them too, right outside the door, where they stopped. Farah stood, placing herself valiantly in front of Leigh.

A knock sounded.

“Farah, Leigh, it’s over.”

Ava’s voice carried into the room and the pair sighed in relief. Farah unlocked the door, allowing it to swing open to a disheveled Ava, expression cold. When she looked at Leigh, there was a flash of sympathy, but it was gone the next moment.

“Ava-” Leigh started.

“We need to get you to a medic.”

“I’m not that bad of a nurse,” Farah started but the jest fell on deaf ears. Ava pulled out her phone, placing another call, asking for a medic.

Later, pumped full of pain medication and fresh bandages, Leigh sat on the couch in the common room, alone, waiting for a trace of Unit Bravo.

Eventually, Ava arrived in the room. Leigh stood at attention, heart racing with hope of news. 

Ava’s green eyes were icy, but not for Leigh’s actions. Leigh had spent the last hour thinking of which questions she wanted to ask, knowing that she would likely not get the whole story. With Ava, Nate’s closest friend, she asked.

“Can you answer my questions? Please, Ava.”

Ava kept her eyes on the ground, never looking at Leigh, but she nodded once.

“Is he alright?”

Ava’s tense shoulders dropped slightly and she took several strides to the nearest couch and sat, leaning back into the cushions.

“He’s sedated. But yes.”

Her next question, “Are you and Mason alright?”

Ava barked out a short, humorless laugh. “Yes, Detective. Thank you for your concern.”

“I’m concerned about every member of Unit Bravo,” Leigh said honestly. And she found that yes, she was, and had prioritized their wellbeing the last few weeks. The realization that she had friends again, people that she truly cared about was a revelation for another time.

“Can I see him?”

Ava scoffed, straightening the shirt she was wearing. Neither of them said anything for several moments, the silence deafening between them.

Ava took a moment to look at Leigh with her wrapped shoulder and bandaged hand. Her eyes lingered on her shoulder for a moment longer.

“No.”

Leigh sat up. “Ava, please-” she was ready to beg but Ava’s words sliced her heart in half.

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

Half of Leigh’s mind screamed, “I told you he could never love you,” the other half begged her to see the truth. Instead, she curled her arms around her knees and pulled herself into a ball. She buried her face in her knees, shaking at the attempts to refrain from crying.

“Detective,” Ava called, voice laced in concern.

Leigh shook her head against her knees. “Did he say that?” she said in a small voice. 

Ava sighed heavily. “He did.”

Leigh swallowed heavily. “What were his exact words?”

Ava didn’t hesitate.

“‘Don’t let her see me. I can’t look at her right now.’”

Leigh loosed a bitter laugh, Nate’s earlier written words surfacing in her mind.

_ “I miss you with every blink, for every moment I cannot see your face is a moment not worth living.” _

Still huddled in a ball, she wouldn’t cry again, not now and not in front of Ava.

The pain was thick in her throat, but she swallowed it down for a final question.

“Can you take me home?”

Her small voice echoed in Ava’s ears, regret a bitter taste in her mouth. She could have phrased the rejection better, could have lied, could have revealed more about what happened. But instead, thinking about her centuries of experience, Ava stood.

“Yes, Detective.”

And it was only when Leigh had closed the door of her apartment and listened for Ava’s car to pull away, that she allowed herself to fall apart.


	16. Grief (E/A)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam holds his life in his hands and an old friend makes a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The finale of Apology! HAHAHA! Sorry for the broken hearts, but they never stay broken for long with me. Enjoy this next part, it is SOOOOO much better than Day 15. Thank you for allowing me the time to write and thank you as always for reading.

_ “I’m sorry.” _

The heaviness of Elidor’s words came crashing down around Unit Bravo.

“She’s in a coma. Stable for the time being, but she lost a lot of blood. A lot. Her organs began to fail at the lack of blood. I’m afraid we continue to wait. Wait and pray that Evangeline maintains her will to live.”

Nat released a shuddering breath. Alive, only barely. Farah allowed tears to stream down her round cheeks, gasping for sobs.

Adam, for the first time in hours, lifted his head and all eyes turned to him. The unspoken question hung in his eyes and Elidor nodded.

“I would advise one at a time, but yes. You may see her. Where is Agent Windsor?” Elidor asked.

Nat stood and offered to show him to where she slept, giving Adam one of their silent looks. It hung between them, lingering as they shared thoughts in a way no one could replicate. Adam stood, slowly, but he walked before all of Unit Bravo, down the brightly lit hall.

Adam inhaled sharply when he first looked at her. Adam could smell the antiseptic in the room, overwhelming combined with the steady beeps of the monitors around Evangeline.

But he focused on the smell of her, like roses and sweet cream, the sounds of her heart beating, slow but regular.

He looked at her pale skin, so white she nearly blended in with the sheets of the hospital bed. And Adam could see the dozens of bandages on her body, around her arm, the only things holding her together.

And when his eyes traveled over her face, she couldn’t sense his gaze like she normally did. When she would look at him with bright hazel eyes and a cocky grin, or laugh and throw something at him, or twist her hair around her finger and blush under his gaze. 

She laid on a bed, eyes closed, her dark chestnut hair loose and tangled on the pillow beneath her.

It was too much to think about, too much to remember her smiling or think about the future they were meant to have.

The future that was ripped away because she didn’t want to see him hurt.

Because she was strong enough to take down a supernatural creature on her own, but her body was not strong enough to keep her alive.

With small steps, Adam moved to the side of her bed, reaching out and pushing a stray hair away from her face.

She didn’t move. He didn’t speak.

What could words do at this point? Was she even there to hear him?   
No, he couldn’t think that way. Couldn’t think about her being gone. Couldn’t think about the life he had foolishly let himself fall into.

So he pulled up a chair, reached out for her hand, and clung to the idea that perhaps, if he begged the right god, they would finally hear him and take his life for hers.

  
  


It could have been minutes, or hours later, but Adam continued to stare at Evangeline, replaying every memory in his traitorous mind.

The mind he had spent centuries building walls around, making sure nothing could penetrate to the deeper thoughts he had squandered away, was shattered. She had torn down every wall in him, built in its place a magnificent home that he could turn to in her arms.

Adam wasn’t sure he had the strength to build the walls again. Wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

He could feel something pressing at his mind. A memory, a thought, a word. Something was pushing from beneath layers of rubble, but he couldn’t find the energy to dig it out.

And then he heard it, a voice in his ear in the empty room.

“ _ Sleep _ ,” and Adam fell prey to slumber.

Evangeline was not sure if she had feared death. They say that death comes when you least expect it, suddenly and without a sound.

She also wasn’t quite sure that death was meant to be an empty cave.

She had heard stories of near-death experiences before. The clouds of heaven, the lack of existence, the fires of a world beyond comprehension. But she had never heard it described as a cave.

Evangeline was not quite sure what to make of it, what to do in the absence of life. She was sure that she was supposed to be missing something, or thinking about something, but she was just there. Sitting in a cave as the trickle of water echoed through the rock.

Was she supposed to be able to smell things in death? Hear things? As she looked around the empty cave, she spotted a dark twisted tunnel, its depths slightly tinged in flickering orange.

And if she focused, Evangeline could smell smoke, hear the crackling of a fire.

The rock was cold beneath her, and any sense of warmth would be better than just sitting here. 

So Evangeline stood, tracing a hand along the wall as she searched for the source of the fire.

In a separate cavern, there was a small campfire, crackling away as if someone had just put a fresh log down. She walked closer to it, feeling its warmth wash over her cold skin. How had she been so cold?

She closed her eyes, sinking into its comfort. Her eyes flashed open when another log fell on the fire, sending ash and sparks into the air. She leapt away from it, only to crash into someone behind her.

“Ah!” Evangeline shrieked.

As she twisted to see who she had bumped into, the tall, sharp form flickering into view. Evangeline could recognize a woman, but the identity fell short from her thoughts. Something in her mind told her she should know, should remember the bright blue eyes and sun aged skin. But nothing.

“Who are you?”

“Oh? Can’t even remember me after I spent hours trying to reach you?” the voice crooned, lilting and so familiar. “That’s alright. Having nearly died, I’m sure it’s quite a shock to remember anything.”

Her words echoed in Evangeline’s ears. “Wait, nearly died? I’m not dead?”

The woman laughed, extending her palms toward the fire. “Not yet, dear. Hell of a will you’ve got to still be hanging on.”

“Then why can’t I remember anything? I feel like if I was alive I should remember who you are.”

“I can jog your memory, if you’d like.”

Evangeline nodded with wide eyes. “Please. I feel like I’m forgetting something important.”

The woman turned away from the fire and walked to the corner of the cave. As she knelt, she reached for something, cupping her hands and rising again. Evangeline could see water in her hands, reflecting the light of the fire. And before she could ask, the woman thrust the water into Evangeline’s face.

Before she could flinch or shout in anger, memories came rushing back to her. Memories of black and pink striped tents, of holding hands with a firm grip. Looking into green eyes that melted when their gaze met, a protective arm around her waist.

And then she could see the familiar bright blue eyes again, surrounded by a cluttered tent, a flower, given in offering on the table.

Evangeline gasped and recoiled, thrust back into her present.

“Sanja,” she exclaimed in awe.

Sanja smiled, holding her hands out to the fire again. “Nice to see you again, Evangeline.” 

“But how are you here?” 

Sanja shrugged. “In truth, it was a bit tricky. I was never able to see your future, you were an empty slate to me and the maa-alused. But, the offering made by your lover seemed to be a strong enough tether that I am using him as a conduit.”

Evangeline felt the warmth creep into her cheeks and the realization snapped in her mind. “Adam!” she yelled.

“Calm down, he’s fine,” Sanja tsked. “He’s been by your side nearly the whole time. You haven’t been gone that long, but you don’t have much longer at this rate.”

Evangeline hissed a breath. “Sanja, what do I do? I have to get back to him.”

At that, Sanja’s topaz blue eyes slid to Evangeline’s. “Would you do anything to get back to him?” Her voice oozed with seriousness and something near a threat.

Evangeline didn’t even have to think. “Anything.”

And for a moment, Sanja appraised Evangeline, let her eyes bore into Evangeline’s soul. Whatever she saw seemed to be pleasing enough as the old woman smiled and cracked her knuckles. “Then we have some work to do.”

Apparently that work had been bringing piles upon piles of logs and sticks into the firelit cavern. Evangeline wasn’t even sure that in half-death you were supposed to sweat, but it poured down her skin nonetheless, only intensified by the fire’s heat. 

Finally, with the entire room stacked full of logs, Evangeline braced her hands on her hips and turned to Sanja. “What now?”

“Tell me, dear. Did you and Adam ever discuss eternity?”

The way she phrased the question made Evangeline blink. “What do you mean?”

Sanja didn’t miss a beat. “Did you ever discuss becoming a vampire?”

The force of a memory recalled in her brain, pounding against her skull. She recalled begging Adam, after years of being together, promising that she wanted to be with him forever. His response had been a sharp but pained, “No.” Final and resolute. She had argued with him about it, brought it up again and again, but he swore that he would never gamble with her life.

Now, there wasn’t a gamble.

“We did. I wanted to but he said no.”

“Something about you potentially not making the drop?” she questioned. Evangeline nodded.

Sanja hummed to herself and stared into the flames.

“Well, seems like I will have to make a quick stop then. Tend to the fire while I’m gone. Don’t let it go out.” 

Evangeline couldn’t see why it was an issue with how much wood they had brought in, but she nodded her agreement and when she blinked, Sanja was gone.

Adam, in a dreamless sleep, was roused by a presence at his side.

He nearly shoved the old woman away when he realized who was near him.

Sanja stood, haggard and exhausted, in front of a scowling Falk, who had one arm out for Sanja to brace herself on.

“What are you doing?” Adam spoke sharply, throwing a protective arm between them and Evangeline. It seemed as if Falk must have traveled through the glass window of the hospital room, but he couldn’t be bothered to look at Adam.

“Cleaning up your mess,” Falk said tersely.

Adam growled, low in his throat, a warning.

Sanja turned and swatted Falk’s arm. “Play nice. It’s only for a few minutes.”

Falk harrumphed and turned his vision away, examining the rest of the room.

Sanja stepped forward, legs shaky, but upright with Falk’s support.

“She’s dying, Adam.” Sanja’s words were obvious, but still hit at the final threads of Adam’s sanity. He swallowed heavily.

“I know.”

Sanja looked at Evangeline’s body, unhealthy and clinging to life where her spirit had been whole.

“Are you willing to do anything for her?”

Adam’s breath left him in a woosh. Had some god took pity on him?

“Yes. Anything. What can you do?”

Sanja looked at him with a sad smile. “I think you know what you have to do.”

Adam blinked, mind racing until he settled on the inevitable option he had been avoiding. “No.”

Sanja sighed. Adam barreled onward, “She can’t. She won’t survive the process after the damage done already. She’s got machines keeping her alive.”

“And what sort of life do you think that is, Adam?”

Her tone was sharp, cutting Adam to the core. He knew the truth, knew that Evangeline would rather die than remain in a coma, never to move again.

Sanja’s words from the carnival came drifting back to him,  _ “The light will greet you… but the darkness to come may swallow you both.” _

“I can’t,” Adam choked out, nearly breathless.

“She’s ready.”

Adam bared his teeth. “How would you know, fortune teller?”

Falk scoffed and cut in. “You know very well by now that Sanja is not a mere fortune teller,  _ vampyr _ .”

It was true. They hadn’t gotten a straight answer, but the Agency knew that she wasn’t a seer. 

“She is waiting for you. Waiting for you to take the steps that she is now unable to. If I could connect you to her, I would. But I have to use your mind to get to her in the first place. Her blood blocks me from entering her mind directly.”

Adam knew there was more truth to her statement, he couldn’t sense any lies since the moment they arrived.

“But,” he started.

“She is ready either way the cards fall. Wouldn’t you like the chance? If it meant you could hold her again? Full of life?”

Adam’s heart seized, pounded against his chest at the memory of her, laughing in his arms, warm in his touch.

He grit his teeth, warred with the options, the choices to be made.

Sanja reached out and Adam tensed, her touch landing softly on his outstretched arm. “I will wait here while you gather your friends. You will need them.”

Adam balled his hands into fists, tightening his body one last time. But it fell slack with his choice. He stepped toward the door and looked at Falk, hesitating before reaching for his phone. He dialed a number.

“Nat. I need you.”

  
  


Moments later, the entirety of Unit Bravo, including Agent Windsor and Elidor, were crammed in the hospital room. With the addition of the hospital equipment and Sanja and Falk, it made for quite the tight fit. 

“What are they doing here?” Mason scowled. Nat held up her hands to talk down a fight but Adam cut in.

“Sanja spoke with Evangeline.”

All of the air left the room, Rebecca choking on a renewed sob.

Before anyone could ask, Sanja continued on. “Evangeline is going to make the plunge to vampyr. This is her last chance at life, and she wants you all to be here.”

Unit Bravo was still, but Elidor pushed forward and began monitoring her medical charts. He frowned and looked at the old woman. “It’s possible, but the chances are slim. Both of her surviving the drop and of her ever waking up without it.”

Hardly anyone breathed in the silence. Falk rolled his eyes and spoke cooly. “The decision has already been made. Just be here to witness her awakening.”

Mason snarled but it was Farah who put a hand on his arm to stop him.

Nat looked to Adam. “Is this what you want?”

Adam swallowed hard. “It’s not what I want. It’s what she wants. And…” his words hung unspoken in the air.

It was her only chance.

Nat nodded her head and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m here for both of you.”

“And me too!” Farah chimed, voice thick with emotion. 

“As if I’m not going to be part of it,” Mason grumbled, looking at Evangeline before he gave a trace of a smile to Adam.

The situation was already emotionally charged, but Adam couldn’t help the surge of emotions that washed over him at their willingness.

Adam sighed resolutely and turned to Sanja. “Alright. Let’s begin.”

Sanja held up her hand. “One more step, Agent. You need to sleep one last time.”

When Sanja popped into Evangeline’s view again, she didn’t scream. She still jumped like a scared cat, but at least she didn’t scream. The room had gotten even hotter, but Evangeline continued to keep the fire going.

“Sanja, where did you go?” Evangeline asked.

“I spoke to Adam.”

Evangeline inhaled sharply and stepped toward Sanja. “What did he say? Is he alright?”

Sanja smiled at her concern. “He is ready to help you turn. Your family is by your side as well.”

Evangeline’s heart clenched at the thought of Unit Bravo around her hospital bed. Even the idea of her mother by her side for the transition didn’t bother her. The prospect of being with Adam again, with her family again, it drove all other thoughts away.

Evangeline nodded, a smile gracing her face and tears shining in her eyes. “I’m ready.”

Sanja beamed and stepped forward, taking Evangeline’s hands in her own. “I have to leave you now, fully this time.” At Evangeline’s nod she continued. “Know that though I am gone, your family is with you, but this blessing is all that I can give you now.”

Sanja pulled her down to place a kiss on Evangeline’s brow. She squeezed her hands and pulled away with determination in her eyes.

“Alright, child. Be prepared. I do not envy your next few moments, but know you will come out stronger on the other side.”

As Sanja began to pull away, Evangeline held her hand tighter. “Sanja, what will happen?”

A bit of sadness fell over Sanja for a moment and she looked into the fire and then back at Evangeline. “You will burn. And then you will live.”

Fear washed over Evangeline, ice in her veins at the realization. The wood she had gathered was her pyre. If she withstood the blaze, she would be able to return to Adam. If she did not…

She sighed with finality and raised her gaze to Sanja’s. 

“Tell them I love them, each and every one of them.”

Sanja lifted a hand and placed it on her cheek. “I won’t have to.”

And then she was gone.

Sanja pulled her hands from the sink where they had been submerged and swayed on her feet. Falk stepped close and steadied her again. The whole room watched her as Adam lifted his head from the bed, hand gripping Evangeline's limp one.

“She is prepared and…” she paused, weighing the words in her mouth. “She has a message for you all when she wakes up, but I will let her tell it.”

The room sighed and all eyes turned to Adam and Evangeline. 

Without notice, Falk and Sanja stepped out of the room, leaving the family to their privacy.

“This is going to work right?” Farah asked, hopeful voice tinged with worry.

Nat nodded. “I think so. Adam? Do you want us to step outside?” she asked.

He shook his head, running his thumb over the back of Evangeline’s hand. “No,” he sighed. “She wants you here and so do I. Please.”

Everyone rearranged themselves, circling the bed. 

“How does this work?” Rebecca asked from the corner of the bed. 

“Well, Adam will bite her, releasing venom from his fangs into her system. Her body will fight to reject it, but once it takes…” Nat paused and inhaled. “The venom will stop her heart and begin to insert itself into her DNA.”

Elidor added in. “Once Adam bites her, I will power down the machines. They will only hinder the process and make it more difficult for the transition.”

He didn’t voice the fact that if it failed, she could not be put back on life support.

“Once her DNA is rewritten, the new vampiric power will jumpstart her heart. If her heart beats again… it worked,” Nat finished.

Rebecca fidgeted with her hands and nodded. “Will it hurt?”

Unit Bravo’s silence was answer enough. 

“Nat, Mason, can you help lift her?” Adam asked. Without hesitation. They both gently lifted Evangeline, allowing Adam to sink in the bed behind her, cradling her in his arms. 

They allowed a moment of silence to sink in the room, permeate it with the heaviness of what laid before them.

“Do you want us to do anything Adam?” Farah asked, voice soft.

He swallowed. “Help keep her still. I don’t want her wounds reopening. And everyone,” he took a moment to look each person in the eye. “Thank you.”

Soft, teary eyed smiles graced everyone’s faces, even Mason seemed softer than normal. 

Adam looked down at his life in his hands. The woman he loved more than anything he had ever known, heart beating against his chest. As he looked at her resting form, her last words rang in his head.

_ “Tu omnia,” _

_ “I trust you.” _

He leaned forward and placed a trembling kiss on her neck, tilting upward to whisper in her ear. 

“ _ Tu omnia, I’m here for you, my love. _ ” And Adam tilted his head again, baring his fangs, the moment they sunk into her neck, Elidor flicked the power switch and the entire room went silent.

Adam groaned with the warm rush of her blood, pulsing through his veins with a fire he could not comprehend. But as his venom entered her system, he retracted his fangs with an inhale, heart thundering with the surge of power. 

He wrapped his arms around her torso and it was only a moment until the thrashing began. Unit Bravo lept into action, holding her down with determination and pained expressions. Rebecca choked out a short sob, seeing her only child thrash with the last remnants of life. With her final breath, Evangeline screamed. The noise was one Adam hadn’t heard in a long while, the sound of someone burning alive. A prolonged and soul-wrenching scream, one that clutched his heart and crushed it with raging force. Then she fell silent, limp in Adam’s arms. 

The longest moments of his life lay before him. Seconds turning to years as he hoped, wished, prayed for her body to accept the change. Tears fell from his eyes and he cupped her cheeks, placing the gentlest of kisses on her lips.

She stayed still.

Even with the power coursing in his veins, Adam didn’t breath, willed his heart to stop, because it already had. His heart had stopped beating the moment she fell limp in the field, bleeding in his arms.

And in his hands, he held the love of his life, dead.

And it came like a thief in the night, death. Watching over them with a stillness. But then it faded, thrust away with a powerful thump.

_ Thump thump. _

_ Thump thump. _

Both Adam and Evangeline’s hearts began beating. 

Not a breath was taken. Not until Evangeline’s eyes fluttered open, hazel meeting green with a brightness that outshone the sun.

“I knew I could trust you,” she said in a ragged voice.

The room erupted. Rebecca falling to her knees and weeping, Farah hollering like a banshee. Nat and Mason smiled at each other and Adam…

Adam crushed his lips onto hers with bruising force, desperate to take in all the life she offered. She chuckled weakly against the force and pushed him gently away. 

“My love, my life, my everything,” Adam whispered against her, hands shaking on her cheeks. Wet tears fell down her cheeks.

“Adam, my love,” she choked. 

“I love you so much,” he spoke with the voice of the universe, the voice of something so sure it was written at the beginning of time.

Evangeline smiled and placed her forehead against his. “I love you too.”


	17. AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU where the Agency doesn't exist and UB isn't vampires! Everyone is just ordinary citizens, and the "Detective" isn't involved with the PD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I loved this? I really struggled to find the boys' careers that fit them, but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out. I actually.... might pursue this later.... cause I love them.......

**Evangeline/Adam (Social Worker/Chief of Police)**

It was not often that the Chief of Police, Adam Du Mortain, walked the streets of Wayhaven on patrol. But despite the menial task, he quite enjoyed being able to see the people the precinct protected. Especially when it was in their daily routine, without care or urgency.

The trees had just begun to shift in color, deep greens fading to vibrant, fiery hues. The crisp, fresh air was a relief after being in his office all week, trapped under paperwork for the new event the Mayor wanted to hold. The Mayor did not seem to understand that there were legal hoops and policies to uphold, then again, Adam wasn’t sure he understood much of anything beyond false pleasantries and entertainment.

The sound of a distant cry rang in Adam’s ear, bringing his thoughts back to the present. His demeanor shifted to full work mode, listening again for more noise that would indicate a location.

Another wail sounded and Adam jogged down an alleyway to his right, coming out the other side to another part of Wayhaven’s small downtown. He scanned the vicinity for movement when a sob centered his vision. He couldn’t see what made the noise but he walked quickly and cautiously to a covered bus stop. With one hand hovering near his hip, just in case, he looked inside.

Inside sat a young boy, no more than 7 years old, furiously rubbing at the tears running down his cheeks. Adam sighed and straightened his posture, gently knocking on the side of the bus stop.

The young boy jumped and stared at Adam with bulging eyes, sniffling again.

“Hello there. I’m with the police,” he spoke softly and lifted his long walking coat to reveal the shiny Wayhaven PD badge. Some of the sadness in the boy’s eyes shifted to awe, but tears still fell down his cheeks. “Chief Adam. What’s your name?”

The boy sniffled again, wiping a hand over his eyes. “Julian.”

Adam offered him a small smile. “May I sit next to you, Julian?” When the boy nodded, Adam took a seat on the wooden bench, giving Julian his space if he wanted it.

They sat in a moment of silence as Julian’s crying subsided. Adam waited until the boy looked ready to ask his next question.

“Julian, why are you crying?”

Julian’s short legs hardly reached the ground, but he kicked at the pavement and stared at his shoes. “My parents.”

Adam nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “I see. Did they do something?”

Julian scrunched his face as if fighting another wave of tears. “They won’t stop fighting. Dad wants me to live with him but mom says that I have to stay with her. I don’t know why he left.”

Realization struck Adam. The poor boy was experiencing a divorce and the trauma of a family dividing.

“That can be really painful. Are you alright?” Adam asked. The boy only nodded in response.

“And Julian, where are your parents right now?”

Julian shrugged and jerked his head behind him. “We were in a park. But when they started yelling I ran away. The nice lady called for me to come back, but I ran.” When he admitted that he ran, he sniffled again. Adam reached into his pocket for a tissue he had placed in there earlier, careful of any fall allergies that might arise. He handed it to Julian who shoved his nose in it.

Just then Adam’s phone began buzzing, he picked it up and listened for a moment before speaking. “Tell them to stay there. I’m with him now. We will be there shortly,” his voice was quiet but firm, not wanting to spook Julian.

Adam hung up and looked back down at Julian, who now met his eye with a determined stare. “You are taking me back.”

Adam sighed and nodded. “I am. But, when we get there, I will talk with your parents. Who is the nice lady you were talking about?”

Julian frowned but looked out at the street. “She is there when Mom and Dad are together now. She asks me questions about what I like to do. She bought me ice cream once.”

Adam felt a twitch of another smile. “Well she does sound very nice. Why don’t you tell me about what you like to do while we go find the nice lady?”

Julian just nodded, but as they walked, he began to open up about his love of math and nature. Adam answered his questions about being a police officer and the boy began to smile by the time they reached the park. As they turned the corner hedge into the park, he heard a shout.

“Julian!” a woman shouted.

She raced toward them, chestnut hair whipping behind her, shining in the autumn light. Adam stiffened instinctually, but she slowed upon reaching them and knelt to the ground, her slacks caked with dirt where it had been clear she had been crawling. 

“Julian are you okay?” she asked, half-breathless. The boy nodded and pointed at Adam. 

“Chief Adam found me. We talked about police stuff.”

The young woman sighed in relief, tension draining from her shoulders. Adam’s eyes had been focused on her the moment she was in view. She seemed to demand all of his attention, and he hadn’t hesitated to give it to her, despite his rigid training for threats. 

Adam cleared his throat and met her hazel eyes. “Are you Julian’s mother?” 

The woman smiled and Adam could feel his heart twist, a sensation he hadn’t felt in years. “Ah no. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Wayhaven might be small, but we can’t know everyone, right?” She joked easily and the light laugh drew a hint of a smile from Adam. “I’m Evangeline Windsor, with Social Services.”

Before Adam could reply, Julian chimed in. “She’s the nice lady who gave me ice cream!”

Evangeline grinned down at Julian and held out her hand, and Julian shyly put his hand in hers. “You’ve been talking about me?” she asked him, but looked up at Adam with a quirked eyebrow.

Against all of his better senses, Adam felt blood rush up his next at her coy look. How had they never met?

“He asked who the nice lady was,” Julian responded.

Adam cleared his throat again and nodded. “Making sure that he was going to be returned to a safe place. Where are his parents?”

Evangeline’s smile dropped and she looked across the park. “Searching the opposite ends of the park. We weren’t sure how far he ran. His mother had just called the station.”

Adam nodded and motioned toward the park. “I told Julian I would speak with them, if that is alright?”

Evangeline’s eyes widened. “By all means. Now that Julian is safe, I’ll have to resolve the meeting anyway,” she let out a small sigh but began walking with Julian in tow. Adam found his hands itching to rest at the small of her back, guiding them all through the park.

He shook the notion away and cleared his throat, hoping to clear his thoughts.

Evangeline turned from her talking with Julian and looked up at Adam with glowing eyes.

“You might want to go to the doctor, Chief Adam. Sounds like you have a tickle in your throat.” Her words were all concern but he could see the glint in her eye that she suspected something else. He clenched his hands by his side and pointedly looked away from her, doing his best to ignore the eyes he felt linger on him.

  
  


**Juniper/Mason (Baker/Bar Owner)**

Just because Mason owned a bar didn’t mean he had to play bartender. In fact, he made sure that he never entered the bar during its peak hours. But if he had to cover the early hours, might as well get some work done.

Mason pulled up an old floorboard someone had made a hole in. Apparently some drunk jumped off a chair and his foot went right through both the floor and the foundation board. He had been promptly kicked out, after they made him pay his tab.

He brushed his hair out of his face and set to work measuring the hole in the foundation to fill.

He was just about to replace the floorboard when the door swung open and slammed shut with a thud and a chime. Dumb fucking bells. His bartenders had asked for some sort of alert system for busy nights, and they had all settled on stupid brass bells to ring when the door opened.

Short, heavy footfalls made their way to the bar before one of the stools squeaked with the weight of a body.

Mason continued measuring. They could wait.

He pulled the ruler from his back pocket and lined it up as nails drummed on the bar. Mason grit his teeth but made the marks on his replacement board. The drumming nails turned to knocking on the surface.

“Hello? Sign says you’re open,” a feminine voice called out, thick with exhaustion. 

Mason grunted his response through the nails in between his lips. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the woman lean on her stool around the edge of the bar to see Mason on his knees.

“Oh,” she said simply and pulled off her stool. She stood and walked over to him, standing over him as he worked. He tried his best to ignore her and just finish up his work, but she put her hands on her hips and squinted down at him.

Mason spit the nails onto the floor. “I’m fucking busy here. Either sit down and wait or leave.”

The woman knelt down and looked at the marks he had made on the wood. “Your measurements are off.”

Mason rolled his eyes. “No, they aren’t.”

“Yes they are.”

“Look sweetheart, I think I know how to use a fucking ruler.”

The corner of her mouth twitched slightly upwards. “I would think so,” her tone suggested otherwise. “But you marked the width as 14 and ¾ but its 14 and a quarter. Not three.”

He dropped the wood in his hands and looked up at her, hair falling in his eyes. “You didn’t even see the ruler on the wood.”

“Didn’t have to,” she smiled. “I’ll prove it, if you want.”

“By all fucking means, sweetheart,” he picked up the ruler and all but shoved it at her. As she took the ruler from him, he noticed that the joints on her fingers were an angry red, almost inflamed.

She lined up the ruler over the hole and stuck her nail against the measurement. “See. 14 and a quarter.”

Mason blinked and yanked the ruler from her, measuring it himself. Sure enough. “And how did you tell without looking?”

She shrugged. “I know my maths. Good at measuring by eye. It was a 50/50 shot I’d be spot on though.” She stood and brushed her hands over her skirt, giving Mason a nice long look at her legs. “I’ll be at the bar. Let me know when you are done.”

As she walked away, Mason raked his eyes over her curves and her long, bare legs. Her skirt just brushed her knees, but lifted as she walked, making him grin at the view.

After several minutes of sawing and hammering, he picked up his tools and threw them on a nearby bar cart where they clattered against glass.

He didn’t care. He had something far more interesting leaning up against his bar.

“You done?” she asked as he approached. 

“What does it look like?”

She looked him up and down and he smirked, enjoying being seen by her. She didn’t smile back.

“Can you make me something that makes me numb?”

She hardly even looked legal, and asking for something that strong in her size made Mason raise an eyebrow at her. When she held his gaze he shrugged and turned to the shelf behind him, pulling various liqueurs.

“You got a price point?” he asked.

“Nope.” She popped her lips on the “p” of the word and for once, Mason didn’t mind the extra sound.

“Sweet or bitter?”

She smiled softly and looked down at her hands, resting on the bar. “Sweet, please.”

Mason chuckled a little. She did look the sweet type. Too bad he was anything but sweet.

He slid her a mixed drink, which she picked up with a wince before setting it back onto the counter. “Do you have a straw?”

Mason leaned over and grabbed one, plopping it into her drink for her.

She nodded and took a long sip, pulling back and swallowing with a grimace.

“Ugh what is that?” 

“Dunno. Just threw some shit together and added a fuckton of sugar.”

She looked him over again before taking another, much shorter, sip. “You aren’t a bartender.”

“And you aren’t a lightweight.”

She scoffed and sat back. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

He leaned his hip against the back counter and watched her. They stared at each other and Mason was surprised when she didn’t pull her gaze away like most women did.

As she took another sip, Mason watched her tongue reach out and guide the straw into her mouth, the action all too sensual to be an accident. His eyes darkened and he watched her neck as she swallowed. The things he would do to her neck.

She finally pulled away after draining half the drink and turned on the stool to lean an arm more comfortably on the bar.

“Do you sell food in here?”

Mason grunted. “You walked in here like you’ve been here before. You tell me.”

“I haven’t,” she said running her knuckles along the cool glass of the drink.

“Color me shocked.”

“You could use some color in your outfit,” she shot back.

Alright, maybe this would be a little more of a game than he usually expected. But he would bite.

“What’s with your hands?” he asked, noticing how she continued to hold her fingers against the glass.

She winced a bit and looked at them, still keeping them in place. “Mixer went out today. Had to do everything by hand.”

When Mason didn’t ask more, she continued. “Baker at Haley’s. Was making fresh bread for the sandwiches today. Kneading by hand is… not my specialty.”

Mason was skeptical about her hand damage, but he had smelled sugar on her earlier. And a trace of yeast.

“Baker, huh? Knew you smelled as sweet as you look,” he spoke, voice dripping with desire.

She downed more of her drink, but otherwise didn’t respond to his flirtation. Mason couldn’t be sure if the pink on her cheeks was from the massive amount of alcohol she had just consumed or from his words.   
He wasn’t one to control others, but it was 3 in the afternoon and she didn’t look like she often got drunk.

“Do you like baked goods? Pastries?” she asked, keeping her eyes on her drink. That was how Mason knew he had gotten to her, even just a little.

“I like to eat the occasional sweet thing.” His tone was all suggestion, clear in its dirty nature, despite the otherwise clean words.

She choked a little on her sip but recovered quickly. “I’ll bring some samples next time I can. You could stand to serve food here. Probably would get a better crowd too,” she said and downed the final remnants of the drink. 

As she stood, there wasn’t much of a sway in her step, but she shook out her hands and flashed a smile at Mason, one that struck his chest just as much as his gut.

“Thanks for the drink,” she said and slid a $20 onto the bar, far overpaying for the drink. “By the way,” she started to walk away but looked over her shoulder. Her smile shifted to something deceptively sweet. “My name’s Juniper. Juniper Hawthorne.”

She didn’t wait for Mason to give his name before she walked out. Mason was pleasantly surprised by her demeanor and the fact that he wasn’t swayed by his failed flirtations. And he made a note that tomorrow, he would need a fresh loaf of bread.

  
  


**Mia/Felix (Event Planner/Photographer)**

Felix wove his way through a crowd of busy volunteers. People dressed in crisp white shirts and pressed black slacks, dashing around the venue with purpose. Some of them carried trays around, preparing food and dishes for guests on pristine white linens. Every once and awhile, he managed to nab an hors d'oeuvres off a lone tray without anyone noticing. 

Felix was content to just observe the chaos, weaving his way around for a better view. It wasn’t until a voice shouted from across the room that stopped him in his tracks.

“Please tell me someone has seen the photographer!”

Felix couldn’t stop the grin that split across his face. He lifted a hand and ran his fingers over the case hanging from his hip, containing the trusty camera he had owned for nearly 5 years. He owed a lot to that camera. His career, his livelihood, his joy even. It was truly amazing that he spent his days getting to capture happiness and share it with people.

“Mr. Hauville!!” the same voice shouted.

Felix sighed and began weaving his way toward the voice, a small smile still on his face.

He hadn’t met the person who hired him to photograph this event, some stuffy fundraiser that the Mayor of Wayhaven was putting on. They were raising money for something, but Felix couldn’t be bothered to remember what.

While he hadn’t met them, he was almost certain that the woman who had his back to him at this moment was her.

She wore a light lilac dress that clung to her like a second skin. It put glorious emphasis on her curves, and most delightfully, her ass. Felix couldn’t help pausing for a moment and taking in her figure. Her hair was pinned to the side, exposing the left side of her neck. Yes, this was a silhouette Felix would love to capture.

Her head spun back and forth, gaze searching the crowd for someone with a camera. Felix decided to put her out of her misery.

“You must be Mia?” he asked, causing her to jump in response.

She spun and looked at him, eyes landing on his camera bag and she visibly deflated with relief. “Mr. Hauville. I’m happy to see you.”

Felix’s grin widened. “Well I’m happy to see you too.”

She blinked for a moment, processing how it sounded before a grin of her own bloomed on her face. The brightness in her face stopped Felix’s heart for a moment.

“Yes, well. Now that you are here, can we discuss the events for the evening?”

Felix rocked on his heels and stretched his fingers out in front of him. “Oh yes, Mia. We have much to discuss.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her from his suggestive tone. Felix couldn’t help the tight feeling in his chest at the sound.

\---

The event was in full swing. People chatted inanely at tables and nibbled at their food, commenting on its “splendid aroma”. Events like these weren’t Felix’s favorite. It was a bunch of people begging for money from people who hoarded their wealth and looked down on others. He much preferred weddings or birthday parties. Something where people were celebrating others with reckless joy.

But he did his job, walking around and taking artful pictures. Being a photographer also offered the unique perk of taking whatever pictures he wanted. He liked taking the not-so-perfect pictures of people not pretending. People who broke the mold for just a moment, or people who deserved the karma wrought upon them. He did like the picture of the defiant fury of a woman’s face, throwing her drink at a perverted man who wouldn’t listen to no.

If Felix was being honest… He had maintained perfect distance from Mia Fuller. Far enough away that she could do her job, but close enough that Felix could get perfect shots of the brightness that radiated from her. He was drawn to her, capturing her smiles in still frames that made his heart skip a beat.

He briefly debated if it would be weird to send her a separate file of the party of the photos that he had shot of her. He decided that it would probably be weird.

But now, she was between passing directions to her staff, and had bit her lip while surveying the crowd. Felix couldn’t take the shot fast enough. He was delighted that he had decided to go for the quick successive shots, capturing her looking over the crowd, eyes finding him, and the slow bloom of a bashful smile coming across her face as she noticed him taking pictures of her. As he pulled the camera away he could feel blood rush to his cheeks at her meaningful stare.

He looked up at her with a half-awkward grin, caught in the act.

She strode over, heels clicking against the tile of the venue before stopping to stand next to him.

“I see you are working hard, Mr. Hauville.”

You have no idea, he thought.

“Felix. Call me Felix.”

Her smile widened and she looked over Felix, eyes crawling over his body. Felix briefly debated if his purple shirt and black slacks and suspenders were a good idea.

“You surprise me Felix. I like your energy,” she said, leaning back against the wall behind them.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Good. I like your energy too. My camera is quite attracted to you.”

She giggled and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And are you attracted to me as well?”

Felix loved the way she could dish comments back at him. 

“I mean, hard not to be attracted to the brightest star in the room.” He mentally praised himself for delivering the line so smoothly. Especially at the resulting flush that creeped up her cheeks.

She lifted her hand and fidgeted with a lock of her hair, and Felix had the great desire to take her hand in his.

He took a chance and pushed the matter further. “And what about me?” he asked.

Mia’s eyes widened and she looked into his eyes. “I find myself drawn to you as well.”

The relief and excitement that coursed through his veins would fuel him for days to come. He smiled and was delighted when she smiled back.

“Well, Felix. I have to go back to work but…” she turned to him and looked toward the crowd, then back at him. The wink she gave him sent his heart into the stratosphere. “You have my number.”

  
  


**Leigh/Nate (Librarian/Historian)**

“Good afternoon and welcome to the Wayhaven Public Library. Can I assist you with something?”

Nate looked up from where he had been adjusting the buckles on his briefcase to see the librarian seated at the front desk, her delicate pale hand marking her place in an open book.

Just the sight of her put the well-composed man off kilter, her blue eyes glinting with slight irritation despite her pleasant tone.

Nate knew that look well.

He smiled and took several steps forward. “Apologies for interrupting your reading, ma’am.”

She stiffened and sat up, one hand blindly searching the desk for her bookmark. Her eyes widened and trailed over his lengthy figure, a fact that sent a delightful shiver through his spine.

He reached out and grabbed the blue tasseled bookmark that was several inches from her hand.

“Is this what you are looking for?” he asked, holding it out to her.

She recoiled, blinking from a trance that only made Nate’s grin widen. “Ah,” Nate could see the flush creep up her neck. “Yes. Thank you.” She took the bookmark and looked to place it into her book. “And if we are being formal, it is miss.”

“Apologies then, Miss…?” he asked.

Nate noticed her square her shoulders off a bit, where a metal name tag was engraved with the name, “Leigh Meadows”.

“Miss Leigh Meadows,” he inclined his head to her.

Now the flush sat in her cheeks and she shivered, finally meeting his gaze. 

“A pleasure, Mister…?”

As Nate wore no nametag that she could see, he fished a business card from his vest pocket.

“Mr. Nathaniel Sewell. But please, call me Nate.”

Her fingers immediately dropped the card onto the table as if it had stung her. She bolted back in her chair, nearly tipping over.    
“Mr. Sewell! Oh no,” she spun her watch over to check the time, eyes frantically reading 3:30 on the dot. She swiveled her gaze between the watch and Nate. The flustered movements caused Nate to chuckle. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Sewell. I lost track of the time. I-” she hesitated and bit her lip, an action Nate’s eyes followed with deep interest. “I’m afraid I haven’t prepared the materials yet. But I can get them ready in less than five minutes.”

Nate stepped closer, body touching the desk to slightly lean over it, both reassuring and perceptive. “Not a worry, Miss Meadows. And please, like I said. Call me Nate.”

Miss Meadows seemed to sink into the collar of her blazer, skittish blue eyes hesitantly meeting his brown ones. “Yes, Mr… ahem. Nate. Please call me Leigh. I’ll just,” she pointed toward a side room, eyes traveling once again down his lanky form. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized again, beginning to bolt off.

“Can I help you with the materials?” he stepped toward her direction, intent on following her.

She halted in her tracks, debating the idea. Nate knew it likely wasn’t protocol to allow visitors to handle historical materials, but the library board had already agreed to aid in his study of historical buildings, of which Wayhaven had several.

She straightened her blazer and took a short breath before turning. “Of course. Right this way, Nate.”

He flashed another smile at her, one she finally returned. The combination of his name on her lips and that smile made Nate debate extending his study of the buildings. He would need a lot of guidance around Wayhaven, and who better to provide it than a local researcher?


	18. Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juniper has had a stressful day, but Mason is there to make her forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another that I am not in love with, but I have had a pretty busy day and this is all I could rush out. I told myself at the start that I was going to try writing smut and well... clearly I need to write more to get a better feel for how things work on the page. Read if you dare, but it isn’t my best work. I wanted to go back and write something else for the AU I did yesterday, but I had already started this and didn’t have time to switch. So sorry!   
> Warnings: Light smut, really honestly barely there.

Some days, being the Detective of Wayhaven and a Liaison for Unit Bravo was easy. Those days were filled with light paperwork, healthy chatter, and no emergencies. Other days, she left the precinct feeling like she had stepped in front of a moving train, and survived,  _ barely _ .

Today was one of those days where her heart continued to beat so rapidly against her chest it hurt. Her mind swam with unresolved issues and her body ached with the stress of the day.She was too full of emotion and stress, the seams of her sanity fraying at the edges. As the door of her apartment clicked shut behind her, locked, she made it six steps before falling face first onto her couch.

“Ow,” she moaned into the cushions.

“That’s an entrance.”

Juniper rolled of the couch in alarm and slammed to the floor, bones ringing with pain. She blinked away stars to see Mason crouched next to her, smirk on his face. She dropped her head back onto the rug in defeat, but where she failed, Mason would be there with snark and support. His arms circled under her, gently lifting her upright onto the couch. 

“Didn’t know I was so scary, sweetheart.” His joking tone was betrayed by his gentle touch, conveying the apology without voicing it.

She realized that they might have had plans to meet up in the evening, but it was too much to try to remember at this point. Besides, she had given him a key weeks ago and invited him to “make himself at home”.

Juniper dropped her head back against the cushions and groaned, sinking into the plush fabric.

“Did we have plans?” she mumbled, rubbing her temples for relief.

“No,” Mason sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. 

He rubbed at her arm with one hand, and the other massaged the palm of her hand. The cherry on top was how he turned into her, placing a kiss on her head.

The feel of him against her tethered her anxious heart. She slipped her head down from the cushions and into his chest just to hear his steady heart beat. 

His low chuckle vibrated through her, settling her mind with the sound. “Might be easier if you crawled into my lap,” he teased.

Juniper took the bait without hesitation and climbed into his lap, pressing every inch that she could against him. She felt more than heard his sharp intake of breath as her rear settled onto his lap.

“Mason,” she breathed against his chest, inhaling the scent of sandalwood on his shirt. A part of her was delighted that she didn’t smell cigarette smoke on him, but she set that aside for now.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he said, rubbing a hand up and down her spine, each pass going a bit lower.

“How are you always here when I need you?” she asked.

Mason exhaled over her and the smoothness of his breathing calmed her beating heart. “Lucky guess,” he lifted a hand under her chin, tilting her head to make space for his lips. The kiss was languid but strong, so like him. She wanted more of him. As they pulled away, he dropped his head back into the cushion, exposing the olive skin of his neck.

“Mason,” she whispered again, this time against his neck as she tried to get closer, tried to merge them until she didn’t feel anymore. Just him. 

“Hey,” he grunted, leaning back a bit to look into her eyes. They stared at each other for a wordless moment. She loved the way they could look at each other without words and still stay so connected. He knew what she wanted before she even put a voice to it. He sat up a little straighter, appraising.

“I want the day to go away,” Juniper said, losing herself in the storm of his eyes.

“Sleep or sex?” he offered and she was grateful that he even asked. He knew her answer already, but he liked to hear her say it.

“Make me forget, Mason.”

He smirked, predatory. “All you need to remember is my name,” he drawled and kissed her, gently at first, allowing her to warm up to the movement.

Juniper threw herself into the kiss, heady and desperate, always craving more of him. Mason dropped his hands to her rear, gripping it and pulling her closer. Juniper groaned into the kiss and ground down against him, feeling the bulge growing underneath her. Mason loosed a low growl that morphed into a laugh, pulling away and sucking at her neck. She ran her hands up under his shirt, feeling the planes of his chest. “Getting desperate?” his voice rumbled through her. The warmth of his lips on her neck and the pain that bloomed under him was a reprieve from the pain she otherwise felt in her bones. 

“Mason,” she moaned and lifted her chest, pressing it to him for more access. He slid his hands under her own shirt and pulled it off in one fluid motion, the chill of her apartment rushing over her skin, a futile attempt to quell the heat he drew from her. 

His open mouthed kisses traveled down her neck, to her shoulders and the swell of her breasts. She wiggled under his touch and his hands gripped, tight at her waist. She pulled at his shirt and he smiled again, pulling it off for her and it was her turn to smile at his bare chest. The crystal that hung at his neck. She reached out and drew her hand over it, gentle and slow, before danging her fringers down, down, down. 

His hand reached out, stopping her path. “Not now.”

The words stopped her in her tracks. What did he mean not now? Was he seriously stopping this?

And for a moment, he did. But she barely processed it, because one moment they were sitting on the couch and the next, her back was against the plush surface of her bed. 

She didn’t get the chance to think about it when his kisses trailed down her chest, over her stomach and onto her hips, teeth grazing the bones that jutted out. She moaned openly and felt him smile against her skin. Mason rubbed his hands down her hips, the action both relieved the ache in her muscles and ignited the fire in her belly. 

His fingers hooked over the top of her jeans and pulled, gently divesting her of the garment. It amazed her, how he could be so brutal with enemies and so gentle with her. The power she knew he held in his hands, he could crush her and she wouldn’t even mind. But he wouldn’t.

Juniper gasped as his hands ghosted over her core, a final barrier stopping her from what she desired. It was a flash of a thought that only her back was on her bed and her knees bent over its side. His hands ripped her underwear in half and she jolted upright. “ _ Mason _ !” she hissed.

The lazy smirk on his face stopped her admonishment. “Don’t think,” he said and licked his lips, diving into his prize.

Juniper fell back onto the bed with a whine, delicious heat surging through her blood. Her body sang odes that he drew out with his tongue, digging deeper and clearing her mind.

She couldn’t think of anything but his hands on her thighs, his tongue in her cunt.

“Mason,” she moaned again, no longer caring about the stress of the day, the neighbors that could no doubt hear her cries. Juniper’s chest heaved with air and curled her toes, arching off the bed. “I, ah-  _ shit _ !” she cried and gripped the sheets, pushing herself into him with her release. He continued his ministrations, dragging out the climax and making her thighs shake. As she came down and fell back onto the bed, Mason pulled away, kneeling over her. His chin glistening with her essence he said, “I’ve got more work to do if you can still curse.”

That made her laugh a little, but she only reached out, pulling him in for a kiss. The taste of herself on her tongue was bitter, but she didn’t mind. As they kissed she drank her fill of him. Through the feel of his hand on the curve of her breast, the smell of him on her skin, the taste of him in her mouth. He had drawn out everything undesired in her and filled it with the thought of them together. And that was a thought she could live in for a long while, but she still wanted more.

She reached again for him, this time cupping the bulge of his jeans before pulling away for just a moment. “More,” she begged and dove back into his kiss. He pulled back and looked over her disheveled hair, bruised lips and blissed out expression. He also noted the already boneless nature of her body and raised an eyebrow at her. “You sure, sweetheart?”

“Don’t tease me.” 

He leaned in and whispered against her lips, “As you command.”


	19. Wolf (E/A)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evangeline goes on a secret trip to the city to meet with some friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright alright alright. I think I am starting to get a hang of this writing thing. Which coincidentally makes me want to go back and rewrite everything for each Detective. Hmm. Maybe I can actually spend some time working on full backstories and character sheets. Though I'm about to get 100x busier, so we will see.

Despite her time spent with Unit Bravo, sometimes a girl needs a fresh perspective. Although Adam had put on clear display his distaste for Unit Alpha, Evangeline found herself drawn to the unique energy that the wolf team carried. When Lesedi and her team left after the incident with the maa-alused, Evangeline had gotten their numbers and kept in contact.

As with any Agency team, contact tended to be brief and at weird intervals, but she still enjoyed her conversations with Unit Alpha in the group text that she had been drawn into. Lesedi was a calm and reassuring presence, much like Nat but with an air of authority that Evangeline found herself learning from. Tamiko and the brothers were… inquisitive. They always asked her questions about her life and Unit Bravo, though she tried to be vague enough to keep Unit Bravo's privacy. Mostly, they just sent jokes, questions about supernatural encounters, and pictures of food. Evangeline liked being connected to more people, much to Adam’s disdain.

Which was why she had decided to not tell the whole truth about her outing to the city. Lesedi and Maaka had been nearby, coming into the city to meet with a supernatural liaison to a local group of naga that lived under the streets. Lesedi had asked if Evangeline would like to get a drink with her and Maaka had invited himself along. She hadn’t taken any time off in a while and she was curious to learn more about the team that ranked above her own.

So she asked for the evening off, leading into another day off where she could travel back safely the next morning. But then she had to come up with a lie that would convince Unit Bravo without tipping off her plans. If Adam broke another item in her office she was pretty sure she would have to trespass him for at least a week.

It's not that she wanted to keep it secret from them, but Adam’s distaste for the group was enough to set her on edge, especially as she continued in her efforts to get closer to him. This was something that he would not approve of, but she didn’t need his approval to meet with her friends.

Eventually she came up with a paltry lie she offered to Nat (“I’m going into the city to buy some new clothes. Working with the Agency has shredded some of my favorites and I need an update anyway.”). Fortunately, Farah hadn’t been nearby to offer to go with her, and Nat wasn’t too keen on traveling by car. When Nat asked if she had told Adam, Evangeline responded too quickly. “No! I um… Does it matter that much? It’s just a trip to the city. I’ve got my Agency grade weapons and I know exactly where I am staying. I can give you the hotel if that makes you feel better.” Nat had raised her eyebrows, clearly not believing the half-truth she was trying to sell. “I suppose. But one of us should really travel with you.” “That’s not necessary, Nat. Really. Besides, the city is what? Maybe a half-hour sprint for one of you? If something happens, I’m sure I can hold out that long.”

With enough reassurance, Nat relented and Evangeline returned to her apartment to pack. What she didn’t see while she loaded up her items into her luggage, was the pair of green eyes that watched from a building over, looking from the rooftop into her window with simmering rage. 

\--

“Oh, Lesedi thank you for inviting me out tonight. It really was what I needed after this week,” Evangeline smiled, passing through the bar door that Maaka held open.

“It was wonderful to chat with you again. You have quite the interesting perspective. I wish you were the liaison for my team,” Lesedi reached out and placed a soothing hand on Evangeline’s bare shoulder. 

Maaka leaned his head in with a toothy smile. “If you did, I would kill to be there to see UB’s faces. Figuratively of course.”

Evangeline shook her head as they walked toward the hotel, the chill of the night’s breeze catching up to her. “As much as I’ve come to like you all, I would never leave Unit Bravo. I…” Evangeline hesitated, a small smile blooming on her face. “They’ve become like family to me.”

Lesedi looked over Evangeline for a moment, taking in her demeanor. “Ah, yes. That can happen. Well, should you ever be looking for new employment, make sure I am your first call.” She left no room for questions.

Maaka walked ahead of them, turning around and walking backwards as he appraised Evangeline. “So, I’ve dodged the question all night, what does good ol’ CA Du Mortain think of you being out here, with us, alone?”

The question was inevitable, still it startled her back into the lie she had served Nat. “Adam… doesn’t know.”

Maaka’s eyebrows shot up before he turned his nose into the air. “Are you sure?”

Evangeline’s heart skipped a beat and Lesedi chimed in. “Why would you not tell your Commanding Agent about your whereabouts? You are a very valuable asset to the Agency. Surely they offered you protection.”

Evangeline looked down at the pavement. “He is not very keen on Unit Alpha, even more against the idea of me spending time alone with any of you. But I deserve to have friends. Just because they aren’t…” she struggled for a word other than werewolves. “Acceptable, doesn’t mean he gets to make the choice for me.”

Maaka laughed and looked pointedly over Evangeline’s shoulder. “Hmm. Sounds like Senior Control Freak needs to loosen up a bit.”

For a reason she could not name, heat rushed up Evangeline’s cheeks. “No… Well, he could use a vacation, honestly. But Adam isn’t a control freak. We might butt heads often and fight for control, but I think it is because we both care about the outcome. Beyond pleasing the Agency or whatever.”

A knowing smile grew on Lesedi’s face. “You truly have such astounding insight, Detective Windsor.”

Evangeline smiled up at the woman. “Thank you, Commanding Agent,” she said, stopping at the door to her hotel. “This is me. Thank you both again for meeting me in the city. And best of luck with your meetup.”

Maaka chuckled and leaned in, one arm wrapping around Evangeline’s shoulders to pull her in for a kiss on her temple. “We don’t need luck.”

Evangeline straightened at the action, but from the way he held her, she knew it came more out of friendship than anything more. Lesedi offered her arm in farewell, and they parted on goodbyes.

As she pushed through the entrance of the hotel and toward the elevator, she could feel a chill run up her spine. Something was off, but she couldn’t tell what. Evangeline carefully turned her head around, looking for anything out of order. The elevator dinged upon arrival, and seeing that nothing was out of place, Evangeline walked inside and pressed the button for her floor.

The anxious feeling in her gut did not go away on the elevator ride, and it only worsened as she reached her room door. Nothing was in the hallway and she checked her door for tampering before she scanned her keycard to open the door.

The lights were off, as they should be, bed was made and her things left untouched upon first inspection. When she turned and locked the door, a gust of air behind her made her whirl and lash out with a fist.

Only for it to be caught mid strike by a positively livid Adam.

“Adam!” Evangeline hissed, coiled tension waning only slightly. “What the hell are you doing?”

His expression was glacial, betraying nothing but disdain and disappointment. “I should ask you the same, Detective. Should we begin with your blatant lies to a member of our team? Or perhaps we should skip straight to the dogs you decided to party with?”

What had been cautious fear simmered into annoyance under his questioning. Evangeline rolled her eyes and dropped her fist, though his grip on her hand remained firm. “I’m not fighting with you about this Adam. I’m tired and I want to sleep.”

Adam’s lip curled in a sneer. “What about the fact that I am inside of your secure hotel room? I could have killed you at least 7 times upon your entry to the hotel this evening.”

The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, but she shoved down her anger. They had fought too much, too often, and she didn’t want now, where she had two drinks in her and nowhere to run for this to be the night she said her piece. “Adam, please. At this moment, I am fine. At this moment, I want to sleep. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

The exhaustion and pleading in her voice seemed to strike a nerve with him. His posture softened and he even released his grip on her hand. But apparently it wasn’t enough to convince him. “I will be staying the night here.”

She knew what he meant but still she could not stop the blush on her cheeks or her increased heart rate. Temporarily stunned, Adam seemed to sense the faux meaning in his words and stumbled himself a bit. “Not in that way. I will-” he hesitated and Evangeline watched his eyes drop from hers to her lips for a split second before he turned around and strode to the window, moment gone. “You should shower before you sleep. You smell like dogs.”

Evangeline had won the battle for the evening, but knew she wouldn’t win the war tomorrow. She did as he asked, took a brief shower and dressed for bed, crawling into the stale sheets while he remained vigilant, looking across the moonlit cityscape.

And though she tried to go to sleep, it was hard to convince her brain to think about anything else but his presence, six feet away. She rolled over and huffed out a sigh, back facing him. The room had a closet whose doors were also full length mirrors and she watched him in the reflection. Even almost an hour later, he stood with as much tension in his shoulders as when he blocked her punch. But the moon softened the angles of his jaw and illuminated his profile. In the moment, his vigilance was that of a warrior, watching over the fields of the town he protected. Evangeline forced her eyes shut and spoke softly, knowing he would hear.

“I’m sorry, Adam.”

She didn’t have to open her eyes to know that he stood straighter and possibly even looked in her direction. But when he didn’t acknowledge her she found the courage to continue.

“I should have told you, and the rest of Unit Bravo, what I was doing. But it was nice. Meeting with others who can speak about who I am and what I do, but don’t have a say in my daily decisions.” Still silence that she felt obligated to fill. “I’ve come to love Unit Bravo, truly. But it is my right that I can have friends outside of my unit.”

She peeked one eye open to find him staring at her in the mirror. On impulse she stupidly blurted out, “Lesedi offered for me to join her unit.”

He was a rubber band, pulled too tight and ready to snap. Anger and betrayal was so stark on his face she sat up quickly with panicked eyes and faced him fully. “I turned her down!”

The suddenness of her turning toward him and the way that they looked at each other in the moonlight was nothing short of a romance novel. The moment was full of surprise, tension, and beauty. Evangeline had the thought that it should be illegal for Adam to be illuminated by moonlight. The silver light did a number on her heart on its own, but with Adam in the mix she nearly melted. Especially at the relief on his face at her statement. His lips parted, open to say something, but he shut his mouth and nodded. “Good,” was how he replied.

In the midnight hours, she pressed on. “Would you have been upset if I would have accepted?” she asked.

“Unit Bravo would have been-”

“I asked if  _ you  _ would have been upset, Adam.”

She could see the question rolling in his mind, mouth parted on an answer that came quickly. “Yes.”

She didn’t move, didn’t want to startle him but she continued. “Are you happy with my presence in Unit Bravo?”

Adam swallowed down an answer but responded, “I am.”

Evangeline’s heart fluttered and she knew he could hear it. “I wasn’t sure,” she said with a solemn smile. She was bold in the night, away from the prying judgement of the day hours. “Are you…” she fumbled for the words but didn’t want to lose her momentum. “Do you think I could make you happy someday, Adam?” The words came out thick, for some reason she was already on the cusp of tears. Evangeline watched him inhale sharply and his jaw clenched. It was too far, she should have stopped.

“You already do.”

It was whispered so softly, Evangeline was sure she had imagined it had she not been watching him with rapt attention. Not seen the way his lips moved or how his eyes stared into her heart. All she wanted in that moment was to hold him, touch him when he was so close-

But he shuttered like always and turned back to the window, the moment a swift slap in the face. Adam cleared his throat. “You should sleep, Detective Windsor. We will discuss your actions in the morning.”

Evangeline had lost, yet again, in her battle for his heart. But there was a kernel of hope in her chest where before, there had been none. A seed that said, maybe, just maybe, things would be okay. Instead of sleeping with a heavy heart, as she did often when he pushed her away, Evangeline laid down with a smile, keeping his words on repeat in her mind.

And Adam watched, in the reflection of the window, as Evangeline’s beating heart slowed to rest, but the smile remained on her face.


	20. Fear (M/F)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia experiences fear for the first time in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I ever write anything serious or filled with tension for Mia and Felix? I don’t know. I thought I would for this, but nope! Just cute carnival fluff. I’ll tear my heart out reading other people’s fear entries. (I almost wrote the fear prompt for them having Ivy, but I think I will leave that for another time).

Among humans and supernaturals alike, fear can be a common thread. It can be debilitating and constant or urging and sudden. 

For Mia Fuller, this fear was both debilitating and sudden.

“I don’t think I can hold on,” she grunted struggling under the pressure. 

“Come on baby, you’ve got this. Just a little bit longer,” Felix urged.

Mia groaned, reaching further as her muscles began to shake under the strain. Tears forming in her eyes and her gut tightened, knowing the inevitable. “I can’t Fe.”

Felix called out, voice straining, “Baby no!” 

Mia’s heart dropped into her stomach, and simultaneously, her hands lost their grip and she fell.

Felix’s anguished yell followed after her and her vision went skyward.

Time slowed down in her descent wind flowing past her and blowing her hair into her face. This was an ugly way to fall, truly, she could have picked at least a better outfit or tied her hair back, but alas, this was the end.

And Felix caught her gently in his arms as she was lowered to the ground. He smiled down at her and set her on her feet, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You did great baby.”

Mia smiled, exasperated. “I tried my best.”

The carnival worker walked up to them with a bored expression on their face. “Congrats. You climbed the wall and held on for forty-two seconds. Here is your prize.” Their expression was flat, but they handed Mia a small rainbow stuffed bear. Mia’s grin grew and she took it, turning immediately to Felix. 

“How is this for an anniversary prize?” Mia asked with an eyebrow raised.

Felix reached out, but instead of grabbing the bear, he reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it behind her ear. His amber eyes darkened, pupils dilating as he spoke with a low voice. “Are you my prize? Cause I would take you home any night.”

Mia blushed and battered her eyelashes at him. “I’d say I’m the winner because I still have you,” her voice dripped with honey. Before Felix could respond, the carnival worker cleared their throat. “Excuse me, but we need to get the harness off of you. There are other people in line.”

Felix pulled away sheepishly and Mia laughed. “Sorry about that,” she said and began to remove the safety harness, handing it back to the worker. “Thanks for your help.” The worker only nodded before walking off to help the next person.

Felix threaded his fingers through Mia’s, grip tight and he swung their hands between them. “Alright babe. Where should we go next?”

Mia looked around, the familiar white and pink tents no longer eliciting an anxious response. What had once been the maa-alused carnival now traveled around the countryside with supernaturals hosting it for the locals. There were areas roped off for “staff” that were actually meant for supernatural workers and patrons to enjoy themselves without fear of revealing themselves to humans. Of course, they also had extended hours for supernaturals as well, but that was beside the point. 

“What about that one?” Felix asked, pointing to a long tent decorated with red and pink hearts. 

Mia chuckled. “That would be the tunnel of love,” she sang the last word and Felix’s eyebrows raised, beginning to pull her in that direction. She pulled him back easily, nearly spinning him to be chest to chest with her. “Unfortunately, it usually is packed with horny teenagers, and I really don’t want to have to write tickets for indecent exposure tonight.”

Felix hardly processed her words, eyes having dropped to her lips. He couldn’t help himself, but neither could she. Felix leaned in for a quick peck in the middle of the thoroughfare, people brushing past them as they kissed in full view. Mia ran one hand up his soft sweater, moving her fingers slowly up his pectoral, lingering over a weak spot she knew he had. Felix shuddered under her touch. 

Mia huffed a light laugh, breath washing over Felix’s closed eyes. “Perhaps I should restrain myself until later this evening,” Mia smiled and bit her lip. Felix’s eyes fluttered open, no amber visible in his gaze. 

“Mmhmm…” he said and Mia registered that in their public embrace his hands had slung themselves low on her hips, one hand in her back pocket. 

“I might have to write myself up for public displays of affection,” she joked and Felix took in a shaky laugh.

Mia turned her head and found a decent target. “What if we got out some of our energy in the haunted house?”

Felix’s eyes brightened a bit and he gaze a small squeeze to her ass one last time before parting. “Sure, I’ll keep you safe!” he said confidently, puffing his chest out. 

Mia laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him in closer as they walked toward the imposing house built to their left. The carnival workers did a great job decorating the house, even adding strobe lights and lightning sounds to amplify the spooky experience. Part of her wondered how much of it was human technology and how much of it was created by supernatural powers.

They stood in line for only moments before they were waved in and Mia gave a quick squeeze to Felix’s hand. “Ready, hun?” she asked.

Felix turned to her with a particularly sharp glint in his eye. “Always, babe.”

When the door shut behind them, all of the light faded from their vision. Instinctually, Mia shirked closer to Felix, who laughed at the action. “Scared already?”

Mia made a face and bumped his hip with hers. “Shut up. You know I can’t see in the dark.”

She knew he probably smiled, but his voice was completely serious as he said, “You know I will always protect you.”

Mia’s heart skipped a beat but she nodded. “Always.”   
As they moved down the hallway, she could hear the creak of the floorboards and the dim light illuminated decaying wood and rotting carpet. It was realistically disgusting.

They walked into a room with a clown theme, where one had jumped out to scare them, only eliciting a small jump and a laugh from Mia. Moving through, the temperature seemed to get colder and a particular shiver stuck in Mia’s spine, sitting with her and twisting in her gut.

Another room held nothing but chains and the remnants of a werewolf escape. Knowing weres in their real life, the room held no fear for either of them.

But Mia could see a door cracked, light flickering inside. Her confident steps slowed, and the resistance in her grip alerted Felix who turned to her with a grin. “Hey, you good?” he asked, noting the spike in her pulse.

“Ah, maybe? That room…” Mia gestured before them. “Something seems off.”

Felix smiled gently and brushed her hair behind her ear again. “I know what you are feeling.”

She looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“You’re being a scaredy cat.”

Mia rolled her eyes and elbowed him. “You dork, don’t be mean.”

Felix leaned in for a quick kiss and nuzzled her neck for a moment with his nose. “I’ve got you. And you’ve got this. It’s only a couple more rooms before the exit. Then we can go get something to eat,” Felix promised.

Mia finally smiled. “Alright. Deal.”

They moved toward the room and despite Felix’s promise, her pulse spiked higher and her breathing turned shallow.

Felix pushed open the door to reveal a completely empty room. Save the old television that lay in the center of the room, unplugged, but it's screen flashing black and white static.

“It’s just a TV, see?” Felix said, walking them to the side to move around it. 

Mia stared, unblinking at the television as the static seemed to slow, morphing outward and bubbling on its surface. “Fe,” she warned and he stopped, also staring at the screen.

They watched a hand shoot out, clawing on the wood in front of them. A head emerged, and as a poltergeist crawled out of the TV, Mia knew it was entirely too realistic to be staged.

But as the wannabe Sadako crawled out, her form shivered and shrunk, half of her body stuck to the TV. She turned and began pulling at the TV, something seemingly have gone wrong. The fear of the moment washed away at her movements. Mia stepped forward, swallowing her heart in her throat. “A-are you alright?” she asked.

The poltergeist looked up at them in her own horror, unnaturally large black eyes even wider, but where a mouth should have been, there was just pale skin. She looked up at her and was frantic, motioning to the television. Felix stepped forward, assessing the situation. Felix walked to her and began pulling, but nothing worked. Mia took a step back to get a better view and the girl sunk out another inch. Mia blinked and stepped away again. Another inch.

“Hold on, Fe. I’ll be right back,” Mia said and stepped out of the room despite Felix’s protests.

She stepped into the next room, that happened to be covered in spiders, fake ones. A thud sounded from the next room, and Mia peeked her head back in to see the poltergeist removed from the TV.

Mia walked up with a sheepish smile as the girl looked up at her. “I’m sorry. I think it’s me.”

Felix looked at Mia, eyes wide as he recognized it. “Your blood! It was overwhelming her power to separate from her possessed object!”

The girl nodded her head profusely and Mia walked up and bowed her head in apology. “Sorry. I’m sure that might have been scary as to why you suddenly couldn’t do what you were used to doing.”

The girl raised her hand, gesturing that it was okay. 

“Are you okay?” Felix asked one last time and the girl nodded.

“Do you want us to get someone for you?” Mia asked, and the girl looked to her TV and back at Mia. She nodded her head once. “Do you want to come with us?”

And in that moment, the girl looked smaller than before, barely a young teen in her eyes. She nodded again and Mia smiled. “Are you alright to walk with me? Will I bother you too much?” And when the girl shook her head again, the three of them continued forward to the next room. Upon reaching the last room, where a beheaded corpse hung from the ceiling, Mia heard a gasp and then the body fell to the floor. The corpse jerked forward and grabbed its head, settling it back into place and rushing forward toward them.

“Inui!” they said, kneeling before the girl.

Mia was briefly shocked at seeing another supernatural, and one who so easily revealed their supernatural nature. The corpse looked up at them. “What happened?” 

Mia took a moment to explain as the corpse ran their hands through Inui’s hair, settling it back and righting her torn dress. “I see. So you are the Detective.”

Mia nodded and Felix stepped forward, just barely, putting himself more between them.

Then the corpse smiled up at them and nodded. “Well thank you for helping Inui. I’ll grab some replacements and we will take her to calm down a little more. It’s a bit of a scare, you know?” 

Mia looked at Felix with a knowing smile. “I know. So sorry again, Inui. I don’t mean to.”

The young girl just shook her head and waved goodbye, holding the corpse’s hand.

Mia and Felix exited the haunted house and Mia loosed a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Felix turned to her and grabbed her hands again. “You alright babe?”

Mia shuddered out a laugh and smiled. “Yeah. I’ve never been a fan of The Ring, so I’m glad that she wasn’t actually evil.”

Felix laughed and leaned in, sharing a brief kiss with Mia. One that this time, Mia chased after him for another. “Alright, Mia. Let’s go get some food.”

Mia smiled and squeezed his hands. “Sounds good. I’m dying for a corndog.”

“What’s a corndog?”

“Felix, oh my god.”


	21. Trust (E/A)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evangeline and Adam go on a pseudo-date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t intend to make a part two of Wolf. But this was the only idea I could come up with. Also, I had an 11+ hour workday and I am exhausted so please forgive me for what ensues. I wrote this in like 2 hours and didn’t stop to look it over once. I don’t know what I have written and perhaps I never will. But.......... I might like it......... why can’t I be nice to them?

The morning had come with a fairly restful night of sleep for Evangeline. For a hotel bed with overly starched sheets and a cheap mattress, she had been out like a light after her midnight conversation with Adam. She was sure that the few drinks she had at the bar helped, but a tiny voice in her brain said that it was knowing Adam was nearby that allowed her to sleep soundly.

He had given her privacy in the morning to prepare for the day, leaving for a “brief walk” while she took a shower. Evangeline had noticed the pink tint of his ears when she had announced her plans and the idea bubbled happily within her. She stopped to look at the mirror for a brief moment at a different idea that sparked in her mind. Her skin was flush with warmth and she had been ready to pack up and leave, get Adam’s admonishing lecture over with and go home.

But a much better idea had taken root. So instead of throwing her hair back in her usual ponytail, she styled it half-up and applied light makeup for the first time in a while. Well, technically she had worn some last night, but she hadn’t worn any in the presence of Unit Bravo in months.

She was just pulling on her shoes when her door opened, revealing Adam with a drink tray and a paper bag, the scent of fresh bread wafting in with him. Adam’s gaze traveled down her long, bare leg to the pair of flats she had pulled on, back up to her styled hair before turning his gaze away sharply.

“Well good morning to you too,” Evangeline smiled.

“We already said good morning,” Adam said tersely. 

Her lips curled higher. “And I would say it again tomorrow morning as well.” Her words dripped with the promise of a tomorrow and the hope of it being together. She had become bold in her planning and was quite a fan of how it unnerved Adam.

He cleared his throat and thrust the paper bag in her direction. “Breakfast. You should eat before we get on the road.”

Evangeline greedily snatched at the bag, digging for the contents. Inside laid a perfectly wrapped breakfast sandwich, which did not stay perfectly wrapped under her voracious tearing. She took a sizeable bite and relished in its warmth, pleasantly surprised that Adam had remembered she liked hot sauce with her eggs. She dove in for another bite when a cup appeared in her vision, small writing displaying “Mocha” on its side. Evangeline looked up at Adam who wouldn’t meet her eyes. She swallowed heavily before saying, “Thank you,” gingerly taking the cup from him. She couldn’t suppress the slight shudder when their fingers brushed, desperate for them to linger. 

Adam looked away and noticed her packed luggage. “I’m glad to see you are ready to leave. In your…” he hesitated. “Vehicle, we should make it back by noon.”

Evangeline washed down a bite of sandwich with a swig of coffee before saying. “Commanding Agent, did you hesitate on the word ‘vehicle’? Do you want to say something about my car?”

Adam scoffed. “Vehicle is a… loose term. The kindest I could muster.”

Evangeline clutched her chest in mock shock. “Are you being rude to Charles?”

Adam’s head whipped toward her. “Charles?”

He had taken the bait. She smiled. “Charles. My baby. I’ve had him since my sophomore year of high school. First and only car I’ve ever owned.”

Adam raised an eyebrow at her. “You named your car?”

Evangeline only smiled and took another bite of sandwich. “I affectionately name all of my machines.  _ All of them _ .” Her heavy emphasis left little to Adam’s imagination, but he deferred.

“And are they all named after stuffy British monarchs?”

Evangeline smirked. “Yup.”

Adam released a disbelieving laugh. “You can’t be serious, Detective.”

“Dead serious. Charles is my car, George is my phone, and Richard is my-”

Wisely, Adam interrupted. “Regardless, we will travel slower in your vehicle than if it was in proper working order, so we should be to the Warehouse by noon.”

Evangeline crumpled up the wasted paper and tossed it into a nearby trash can. “I don’t think so.”

“I am quite sure of my estimations, Detective.”

Evangeline stood and grabbed her bag. “And I am quite certain that we will not be back a minute before 7.”

“Seven? What could possibly delay our departure-”

“Vacation.”

Adam went deadly still. “Pardon?”

Evangeline turned and looked at him from the doorway. “I am dropping my bags off at the car, and going on vacation. I took the time off, and unless there is an emergency, I will be taking the remainder of my vacation for the day in the city.”

A muscle in his clenched jaw ticked. “You aren’t even supposed to be here. We must return to the Warehouse to-”

“No.”

Part of Evangeline felt a little bad for interrupting him so much, and clearly making his blood pressure spike, but she couldn’t let his words from last night slip by her.

_ “Do you think I could make you happy someday, Adam?” _

_ “You already do.” _

If that was the case, she was determined to make him relax today and experience happiness outside of the Agency or any expectations that he had. She wanted to convince him to agree to a date without him necessarily knowing it was a date. She wanted to see him happy always, not grumpy with her actions or stoic on a mission. Not hiding his smile while he turned away or frowning right afterward. Just happy for the sake of being happy.

But at this moment, Adam was far from happy.

“Detective Windsor, we will be returning to the Warehouse immediately.”

Evangeline unlocked the door and began to step out. “You can return to the Warehouse immediately. I will be there after seven.” She was amazed she could keep her tone so even under his livid glare.

“You never should have come to the city,” he seethed.

“I was fine, Adam. You didn’t  _ need  _ to come.” 

She had him there. Technically, in the company of Unit Alpha, his presence was not necessary. But he would be damned if he left her to the dogs. 

Evangeline looked up at him through her eyelashes. “You could come with me.”

Adam snapped back to her voice. “What?”

“Come with me. Spend the day in the city. If the others need us, they will call us. It won’t kill you to take a day off.”

Adam’s fist tightened at his side. “I take days off.”

It was Evangeline’s turn to raise her eyebrow. “Oh really? And when was the last day you took a day off and did something that didn’t involve helping the Agency in some way? Hmm? Fixing up their vehicles is not a vacation, Adam.”

Adam opened his mouth for a retort but found none. 

Her gaze turned soft and she reached a hand out to him, placing it gently on his bicep. “One day, Adam. Trust me, just once. I deserve a day off and you do too,” she dropped her voice low, almost pleading.

He looked down at where their skin met and stared.

He closed his eyes and took a measured breath. “Eight hours.”

Shock hit Evangeline and almost knocked her off her feet. She hadn’t expected it to actually work. But she wouldn’t chance him taking it back now. “Done,” she smiled. “Now what do you say about me buying you a new t-shirt to replace the one I ruined with pepper spray?”

Somehow Evangeline had dragged Adam to four separate stores, leaving each one with at least a few purchased items. Adam had insisted that he could buy his own items, having purchased two new shirts and a pair of sunglasses. He did not notice Evangeline slipping a men’s t-shirt to the cashier after her own purchase of some new clothes. He was too busy watching for potential threats at the door.

Evangeline walked up to him and smiled brightly. “Let’s drop these off and go have some fun.”

“That wasn’t your idea of fun?” he deadpanned.

Evangeline laughed. “No, that was necessary equipment that I needed to replace, the city has plenty of fun attractions we can go see.”

They began walking down the street to her car. “What do you like to do for fun, Adam?” Evangeline asked.

“For fun? Repair cars or read.”

Evangeline whirled on him, her chestnut hair flying around her. “Adam you cannot possibly tell me that in your 900 years you have not done anything for fun.”

Adam looked at her through his shaded lens. “I have fun. Just… times have evolved past my old pastimes.”

Evangeline beeped her trunk and plopped the bags into the trunk. “Past sword fighting and brooding in the English countryside?”

Adam scoffed but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “I assure you, Detective, I never brooded in the countryside.”

Evangeline smiled and leaned back against her car, the warmth of the metal seeping into her clothes. “Alright, then what would you like to do?”

Adam looked away and around them. Evangeline was pleased to see he was even considering doing more, but she supposed she had his attention enough now.

“What about a museum?” she asked.

Adam tilted his head in consideration. “I suppose. What kind of museum?”

Evangeline wasn’t one much for museums herself, but Adam’s descriptions were far more entertaining than any art piece inside.

“It might be difficult to believe, but J.M.W. Turner was quite the morose man,” Adam whispered to Evangeline. His breath tickled her ear and she suppressed a giggle, looking at the bleak painting before them.

“Oh it is quite shocking I assure you,” she exaggerated. 

They moved down the line of artwork as Adam commented on some of the painters, telling her of times he had either met the artists or met someone who had the misfortune of meeting them. 

They stopped before a piece titled, “Sleep and His Half-Brother Death”.

“Oh don’t even get me started on Waterhouse. A right prick if I ever knew one. Would never shut up about his literature interpretations.”

Evangeline laughed and the bright, genuine sound pulled a laugh from Adam as well. She took a brief chance in the levity and slipped her arm in his, hooking him closer to her.

“Tell me more, good sir. Your commentary if most delightful,” Evangeline smirked up at him with a deplorably fake British accent. Her heart pounded against her chest to see the genuine smile that he offered back.

They continued around the gallery, Adam’s quips and Evangeline’s terrible accent making spectators shoot glares their way. But Evangeline didn’t even see them. She only had eyes for Adam’s smile and the joy in his voice as he spoke.

Eventually, the two drifted away from the museum to a small outdoor cafe for lunch. Adam sat in the shade of the umbrella and Evangeline let the sun shine on her bare shoulders, having shed her jacket in the early Autumn heat. Adam sipped a glass of wine as Evangeline dug into a fresh fall salad, chatting about some of his misadventures with noblemen as a youth. Apparently being the world’s oldest vampire did not mean he was exempt from stupid mistakes. Or eavesdropping in his early centuries.

“I once completed a mission in Italy where we were tracking down an ogre who had a penchant for stealing traveling merchants. On that mission, I had dinner with Dante Alighieri in a pub.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Evangeline gasped and Adam laughed, swirling his wine.

“Those were different times. He was young and absolutely raving mad. I never once believed him when he raved that night about demons and hell. I had met demons by that age. I knew the difference.”

Evangeline threw her head back and laughed, the sight making Adam’s eyes darken for just a moment.

“Adam, if you would have told me the day that I met you that I would be laughing this hard, I would have kicked you out of my office,” Evangeline rode out her laugh and looked to him, seeing the crinkles around his eyes. It was a sight that melted her heart. She wanted forever for him to be happy. She wanted to be happy with him forever.

The remainder of their day was filled with sight-seeing, more tales about Adam’s centuries of life, and commentary about Evangeline’s choice of car. She could spend forever listening to him talk. In fact, it was the most he had talked since having met him all those months ago. They also had slipped back into their linked arms as they strolled through a park at sunset. 

By that time, they were content to walk in silence and observe the city around them. As parts of it wound down, closing its doors and shutters, other parts of the city came alive with bright lights and laughter.

Evangeline heart hadn’t been this light since she was a child. It far surpassed any feelings of accomplishment at the Academy, or any date she had gone on for the last 10 years. This day would live on in her heart as a day of perfection with Adam as it’s shining star.

She sidled closer to him as they walked around a fountain. Taking a chance she laid her head on his bicep. He barely stiffened at the motion.

“Thank you for today, Adam.”

Adam released a hum in acknowledgement, but continued looking on. Without his response, Evangeline continued.

“This is the happiest I’ve been in years,” she mused, closing her eyes and letting Adam lead.

Her heart skipped a beat when he said, “Me too.”

She didn’t say anything more, hesitant to ruin the mood. They walked through hedges of drying flowers, preparing for the descent of fall. The smell of roses and running water filled her senses for a moment as she inhaled.

Suddenly, she stepped up on a nearby stone edge piece, putting her at eye level with Adam who blinked in surprise. “Evangeline. What are you,”

She didn’t give herself a moment to process him using her first name. Took him completely by surprise by cutting his words off with a kiss. In that moment, the streetlamps around them kicked on, illuminating the world around them in a soft glow of yellow.

But Evangeline didn’t know because she had closed her eyes, leaning into Adam with all of her heart’s joy.

Adam had stiffened immediately, but pulled away slowly when her hands rested on his jaw. “Evangel-”

“Don’t think,” she urged him and pulled him in for another kiss, stomach tightening in anxiety. This was it, the moment he either pulled away, throwing up his walls, or leaned in.

Her knees went weak at the force of his reciprocation.

Finally, finally, he wasn’t questioning her. Wasn’t throwing up walls or pushing her away.

That was too much to think about. Evangeline didn’t want to think about anything but his lips, sliding eagerly against hers. Or the way his hands came to rest on her hips, just barely pulling her closer until their chests touched. Her skin buzzed with desire, happiness, and relief. She sought him like a lifeline in the storm, and Adam searched for the light within her. 

Breathlessly, she pulled away and rested her forehead on his, cursing her human nature for needing oxygen. She didn’t need oxygen, she needed  _ him _ .

There were so many questions that bounced in her head.

What does this mean?

Did Adam actually reciprocate her feelings?

Would she have to call Lesedi and Maaka and thank them for setting up the circumstances that led to this?

Adam’s eyes shuttered open and she looked down at him, finding his bright green eyes warm in the streetlight.

His mouth opened to say something but then he shut it, pulling away from her, the movement a pin, stabbing the balloon of joy that had welled within her.

“We should get back to the Warehouse,” Adam said with all the stern nature of when they had first met.

Evangeline visibly deflated, shoulders slumping and smile falling. “Adam, I-” she started but was cut off by a sharp word from Adam.   
“ _ Don’t _ .”

But she wanted to. She wanted to talk to him more, to see him smile, to kiss him again. The kiss that had erased her memory of all other flames in her past, ruined her for anyone else in the future. The kiss where she had found herself, healed and happy in his arms.

The familiar sting of tears bit at her eyes but she held them at bay.

“Okay.”

Evangeline stepped off of her stone perch and began walking back to the car, her racing heart having stopped at his statement.

Adam knew it had been a mistake to let her bully him into a “day off.” He should have forced her home after the shopping spree. Should have thrown her over his shoulder and locked her in the car.

He should have never heard her bright, uninhibited laugh, ringing in his ears and echoing in his soul. He should have never whispered in her ear and watched her shiver in response. Felt her arm in his, her  _ lips  _ on his. 

He was too far gone. This was a mistake, a huge mistake to fall in love with her.

Adam’s breath left him when he processed the thought.

He was in love with Evangeline.

He always had been, but it was only now that his brain entertained the idea. The idea of doing this again, of holding her again and not pushing her away. The idea twisted in his gut, coiling, ready to strike at his already bruised heart. 

_ “And if I should fall… for her?” _

_ “The light will greet you… but the darkness to come may swallow you both.” _

Adam shook away the thought and stormed after Evangeline’s withered figure. He would never let that happen.


	22. Window (J/M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU! Mason watches Juniper through the bakery window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn’t have a better idea and I had another busy day so woop have some more AU! Juniper/Mason. If you are confused, please read day 17!

The large glass window plastered with the bright pink vinyl decal reading “Haley’s Bakery” was so vibrant Mason had to squint his eyes to even read it properly. It’s flowing artsy script was quite garrish and it matched the pastel pinks, greens, and browns of the bakery’s interior. Why did a bakery need throw pillows anyway? But Mason paid the obtrusive colors no mind as he looked within.

Haley whizzed around the bakery, filling coffee cups and asking for more orders as she passed customers, eagerly devouring their baked goods. Her red checked chef hat flopped on her head, truly a marvel at how it stayed on her head despite all it’s movement as she whipped around the shop. 

But again, Mason didn’t linger on Haley.

His grey eyes landed on his target, who seemed to be crunching numbers at a computer with a pencil twisted into the knot of her brown hair. Mason could see at this distance that she had a smear of chocolate on the side of her cheek, likely the result of her taking a bite of something as she worked. Juniper leaned over the computer and her green eyes raced across the screen, as frantic in their reading as Haley was buzzing around the bakery. 

Mason was content to stare, obscured by the large letters of the sign when Mason heard someone call out in the cafe. Juniper stood at attention, head whipping around to find who called. Mason followed Juniper’s gaze to Haley, who had a single, ivory finger pointed right at his shadow in the building. Haley looked none too happy about his lurking presence. Juniper on the otherhand, seemed to flush pink as the throw pillows before a soft smile bloomed on her face.

For the first time in his life, Mason thought his heart skipped a beat. He clearly wasn’t breathing right, and his heart skipped a beat to gain his attention back to his breathing. It absolutely did not skip because of some day-drinking girl.

In Mason’s introspection he did not notice the lack of Juniper behind the computer. Not until the front door jingled (more damn bells) and opened, Juniper leaning against it with a smile a little larger than before.

“Well good morning sunshine,” she said, too cheerily for the time of day.

Mason raised an eyebrow. “Sunshine?”

“Well you never told me your name when we talked before. And you do look like quite the ray of sunshine this morning,” she motioned her elbow at his appearance and Mason looked himself over.

His dark wash jeans and black henley were a staple in his limited wardrobe, and apparently too colorless compared to her mint green sundress. 

“I always look like this,” Mason said blankly. 

Juniper’s smile quirked higher. “Exactly.” 

Nonetheless, Mason did appreciate the spark in his veins as her eyes roamed over his attire, making him feel a little more prepared for the battle ahead.

Mason let a smirk pull to his lips. “And it seems like I was right at the bar. You do look  _ sweet _ .” His emphasis on the word made it clear that he did not mean it in a PG way.

Mason’s quip was rewarded with another pink flush in her cheeks, but she held his stormy gaze regardless.

“Are you going to come in and try something? Haley is fit to chase you off if you keep scowling in her doorway.”

Mason looked her up and down, lingering again on the exposed skin of her legs. And today, the gloriously exposed expanse of her chest, baring the slightest hint of cleavage. He allowed his eyes to stay there before flickering up to meet her gaze, still smirking. “Are you on the menu? I can think of a couple of things I’d like to try with you.”

The way her blush crawled over her neck and shoulders was delightful, carrying the spark from earlier down into his gut.

“I most certainly am not,” Juniper started when Haley called from across the room.

“Juniper? Is he bothering you?”

Juniper turned back to Mason and raised an eyebrow at him, silently repeating her question from earlier.

“I came to buy lunch,” Mason shrugged and reached out for the door, allowing his hand to brush the top of her bare shoulder as he held it open. “But before I do,” he paused and raised his other hand, swiping his thumb across the chocolate stain on her cheek. Though he wasn’t much one for sweets, he licked his thumb clean for the effect.

And it worked, pink cheeks turning red as Juniper dove back into the safety of Haley’s Bakery, giving Mason a nice glimpse of her retreating form as she returned to the counter.

Mason strode lazily up to the counter, paying Haley’s sharp glare no mind as he passed. He violently clashed with the decor, looking more like a bedraggled biker than a common pastry connoisseur. When he reached the counter, Juniper kept her eyes at the computer and asked, “What will you have?”

Mason opened his mouth and Juniper’s quick glare and, “I’m not on the menu,” comment made him grin.

“A sandwich,” he responded.

“Okay, what kind of sandwich?” she asked, fingers clicking away on the keyboard.

“A sandwich,” he shrugged.

She looked up at him, deadpan. “Surely you know that ‘a sandwich’ tells me nothing. Do you want cheese? Meat? Vegetables?”

Mason met her stare. “Surprise me. You want to add food to my bar. Make it something I will remember.”

Juniper’s green eyes seemed to flash in a challenge. “Alright. Haley! I’m going to the back!” she called and turned, looking over her shoulder at Mason. Mason only raised his eyebrows quickly at her stare.

Mason had taken a seat at the larke oak table that served as the main seating in the bakery, eyes trained on the flashed of Juniper he could see from his vantage point. She emerged about 15 minutes later with a plate and set it in front of him. She stretched her fingers briefly and asked, “Can I get you anything else?”

Mason looked from the steaming sandwich up at her, tempted to ask yet again if she was on the menu, but that joke had worn thin. “You got a beer?”

Juniper scoffed. “No.”

Mason shrugged. “This will do.”

She turned and walked away from him and he could have sworn she added an extra swish to her hips. He knew what he would rather sink his teeth into, but the sandwich would have to do. For now.

Mason lifted the split sandwich, cut into two triangles, and examined the contents. There was a hefty amount of some dark meat, roast beef maybe, and cheese oozing off the side. There was some sort of mayo between the bread and cheese, and underneath the meat was tomato and onion. Despite its mild appearance, the whole thing smelled… hot. Both in temperature and in spice. Mason took a bite and was immediately hit with a myriad of flavor. The richness of the meat and cheese, a kick of some hidden hot sauce and onion, before the cool bite of tomato soothed his tongue. 

It was a wild ride Mason himself wasn’t quite sure he would take again, but he had a feeling his bar patrons would. It was a hearty sandwich that would pair perfectly with anything on his tap.

The sandwich came with some fried potato chips, salty enough he was really itching for a beer to wash it down.

Goddamn. Juniper had come up with the perfect sandwich to serve at a bar.

He finished the sandwich, taking Haley up on an offer for water on one of her passthroughs. Mason had noticed that Juniper had disappeared back into the kitchen to resume her work. When he rose from his seat, placing the dish in a bin marked “dirty”, he went to the counter again to pay.

This time, Haley met him at the register. Mason frowned a little at her stern expression but was otherwise unbothered. They glared at each other for a solid minute, neither backing down until Haley all but spat out, “Eleven-fifty.”

Mason pulled out his wallet and handed a $20 to the woman, who looked like she would wither if she touched him. “What are your intentions with Juniper?”

Mason met her stare again and met it with a knowing smirk. “I don’t think that is your business.”

Her glare turned glacial and she slammed the register shut with his change in hand. “I don’t like the way you look at her. Like you want to eat her.”

Mason didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

Haley’s lip curled in disgust and anger before the kitchen door swung open, Juniper propping it open with her hip again. She now sported a dark pink apron that was covered in flour. But Mason couldn’t help but notice some sandwich crumbs at the corner of her mouth. Messy eater.

“How was it?” she asked cooly.

Mason shrugged and closed his wallet. He looked her over and said, “I’ll be seeing you around.”

Haley blustered in front of Mason, clearly upset at Mason’s dismissal. Opposite of her, Juniper smiled, knowing that it was an invitation to see him at the bar.

She was about to turn back into the kitchen when Mason turned around and called across the bakery.

“Hey, sweetheart. You got some crumbs on your face,” he smirked as her eyes went wide, swiping at her mouth. He chuckled as he left the building to her calling back.

“See you around, sunshine!”

He still hadn’t told her his name.


	23. Decay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leigh finds herself under the coffee table at 2AM and thinks about how she got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much more somber note for this one. Wanted to get across a very specific event in Leigh’s past. Super excited to post Day 24 in an hour or two!

Emotions are fickle creatures. Some people spend their lives in near perpetual states of happiness or content. Other people spend periods in deep depression and sadness, teetering on the edge of nothingness but feeling so much it is all consuming. Very rarely do people talk about the “emotional slide”. 

In states of peak emotion, the happiest you’ve ever been or all consuming sadness, the brain can easily “slide” to the opposite emotion, nearly at the flick of a switch. This is why people try to bring humor into funerals. It is easy to wash away sadness with a burst of happiness, sliding into laughter and good memories. 

The same can be said of the slide from elation to depression. Which is how Leigh found herself, curled underneath her coffee table at 2 in the morning, heaving for air that forced itself through tears and mucus. 

Unit Bravo had been a light in the fog of her life ever since they came to Wayhaven. What started at first as apprehension and cautiousness had turned to quick smiles and a sense of camaraderie. She wanted to call it friendship but the word stayed stuck in her throat. Desperate to escape, ready and willing. But the sense of grief and trepidation kept it at bay. 

How had she gotten here? Specifically under the table so early in the morning. 

Oh yes. She remembered. Shortly after recovering from Murphy’s attack, Leigh had returned to work. Some time after that, she had received the call from her mother to meet Unit Bravo at their new headquarters. The Warehouse. The name itself had made her shudder, anxiety about such a similar location creeping into her nerves. 

But that anxiety had passed upon entering the building. What looked decrepit and far too similar to their past battleground, inside had a sense of organizational homey-ness. And she wasn’t able to deny the way her heart sped up, skipping a beat at the thought of light caramel hair.

No.

His hair was dark brown. Longer and more natural. Definitely not light.

The poison seed of guilt sunk in her heart. Why was she thinking of  _ him _ ? Why had her brain reverted to the past so quickly? 

Especially when she knew, only a couple of rooms over, waited a man who deserved the world and left kindness in his wake. Whose easy smile soothed her nerves and calmed her racing thoughts. Who did not leave broken hearts and broken futures behind as he trailblazed for the top. 

Leigh looked at her hands in shame, the emotion digging in its heels as she fiddled with the shadow of a ring that she had thrown away years ago.

Upon nearing the door, she refocused her thoughts on Nate and only him. And the brightness of his smile and the way he stepped toward her nearly knocked her off her feet. Relief that maybe, truly, something was there. That she wouldn’t be alone in the aftermath of what could have been. 

As the meeting dragged on and he inched closer to her, she found herself settling into the natural state of being near him. No rules or controlling holds, just warm eyes edged with concern. He was so perceptive she nearly hated him for it.

Hated that he could see through the cracks in her armor. 

But Leigh could never hate Nate.  _ Never _ .

Not like she hated…

_ Stop. Stop thinking about him. Don’t let him enter your thoughts. _

She looked up into Nate’s warm eyes and offered a slight smile, the action seeming to assuage his concern a bit. Though she did notice how his eyes kept drifting to her. Guilt twisted in her gut and gnawed at her bones, but the meeting went on.

She couldn’t help the burst of laughter that came when Morgan caught Felix in the act of laundry fraud, rainbow socks flying across the room. Nearly everyone turned to look at the sound erupting from her, so rare and genuine. Felix’s grin grew at her reaction, only running around and forcing Morgan to chase him, another laugh bubbling from Leigh at the sibling-like interaction. As Felix ran from the room and Leigh’s smile fell on Nate, her heart only grew lighter. His genuine expression of happiness at her joy made her heart skip a beat. She didn’t even notice how Ava’s eyes trained on their interactions, a disapproving frown inching onto her face.

Nate walked her to her car, lingering touches and gazes setting her blood on fire. How he pulled such a reaction from her when she hadn’t felt anything for years. Nothing but emptiness and sadness. In his words hid a promise of tomorrow. A sureness that he would be there if she wanted him. And she did.

Leigh was consumed the whole drive back to the station with emotions she had thought were long dead. When was the last time she had laughed, a true, real laugh? A chuckle of obligation here and there sure. Or felt like she belonged somewhere?

She hadn’t felt like she belonged anywhere since that day. The devastation that still nestled in her memories, hidden deep. She only deigned to think about it on particularly bad days after copious amounts of alcohol, drowning in the depth of the pain.

It was an ugly habit. As ugly as the crying right now, grip tightening on the leg of the wooden table above her, holding an offensive bottle of wine.

That was right. She made it to the station, thoughts only on Nate and Unit Bravo and when she would see them next. She had breezed through her paperwork in a daze. Tina had popped her head in to tease her about the dreamy smile that apparently had stayed on her face since leaving Nate.

_ “Oh, now that’s a look,” she smirked. _

_ Leigh snapped her gaze to Tina, eyes wide. “What look?” _

_ “You look like you’ve got a date,” Tina said before gasping. “Oh my god do you have a date?”  _

_ Leigh’s heart clenched and the smile fell off her face. “No.” _

_ Tina’s own smirk fell a little. “You sure Mr. Tall, Tan, and Dreamy hasn’t asked you out yet? And you just thought it was an invitation to read?” She tried to joke. _

_ Leigh’s body fell flat, emotion draining from her, leaching into the ground. “No. Nate has not asked me out. Can we not talk about this?” _

_ The mirth went out of Tina’s eyes, mouth twisting with concern. “Leigh you know I don’t-” _

_ Leigh dropped her forehead into her palm, other hand rubbing at her temple, ugly emotions crawling up her throat. “I know, Tina. It’s okay. Just… not now?” _

_ Tina nodded and turned out of the doorway. “Let me know if you need anything, hun,” she said before walking away. “Oh. What are you doing here?” _

_ “I’ve come to see an old friend.” _

_ No. _

_ Nonononononononononono. _

_ She had managed to ghost him since the incident with Murphy, his phone calls and messages trashed immediately. Douglas wasn’t supposed to let him in. Her eyes snapped up to look through the window of her office to Douglas’ empty desk. Eyes sliding over to land on caramel hair and a smirk that eased words out of people. Drew out emotions they didn’t care to share. _

_ Her voice came out on a breath, “Bobby.” _

_ He looked over Tina’s shoulder to meet her eyes, crackling with intensity and hunger. “Hello, angel.” _

_ She hated how the word crawled under her skin, needling its way to the locks on memories she had shoved away. Why today? Why now? Could she break a window to escape from her office? Was there even enough time? _

_ Her heart sunk, escape impossible as he pushed past Tina into her office. Thankfully, Tina stood guard at the door. _

_ “I’ve come to follow up for a final statement on the first murders in Wayhaven in years. The case may be over, but I still have an article that needs finished,” he said, stepping forward and Leigh found herself scooting her chair back to place distance between them. _

_ Her tongue had turned to sandpaper and words were glass in her throat. “The Department has already released its official statement.” She cursed how the words warbled on their way out. _

_ Bobby pouted, tilting his head at her. “Hmm. But I haven’t received a statement from our beloved Detective, having solved her very first case.” Condescending tone mingling with faux praise. Every word was a stab to her chest. How did this hurt more than Murphy’s attack? _

_ “I think you have overextended your welcome, Marks,” Verda’s low voice regarded from the doorway. _

_ He stood with his arms crossed, disapproval and simmering anger in his eyes as he glared Bobby down. Paired with Tina’s stabbing glare and sneer, it was a double attack against Bobby and defense for Leigh. _

_ Bobby’s eyes shifted back from them to Leigh when he leaned forward, angling into her space. “You always know where to find me, angel,” he purred and licked his top lip as he looked her over before straightening and turning out of the office like he had never been there. _

_ Tina made sure he left and Leigh could hear her shouting at Douglas in admonishment. _

_ Verda stepped through the doorway and uncrossed his arms. _

_ “Are you alright, Miss Leigh?” he said, worry lacing his words. _

_ She let out a heavy breath she had been holding and shuddered. “I,” she was supposed to be honest about her feelings, her therapist had said. “No.” _

_ The word broke her and she felt tears prick behind her eyes. Verda stepped further inside and shut the door behind him, drawing the blinds and darkening the room. “Do you want to be alone?” he asked.  _

_ “I just need to think, I need to breathe,” she said, pained. Verda nodded and stayed where he stood, turning away to give her a moment. Several heavy breaths later, a weight still drawing her down, she straightened in her chair and pushed her palms into her eyes, rubbing away the pain. _

_ Verda looked over after a minute and took a cautious step forward. “May I ask why Mr. Marks elicits such a reaction from you? I know that he is barred from entering the station, but I have never been sure why. Beyond his oily nature, which I don’t blame you if that is the only reason.” _

_ Leigh choked on a breath, his observation bringing a bit of levity to her mind. _

_ “I…” she hesitated. “I will be honest with you, Verda, but it can’t leave this room. I don’t want more people to know than they should. Not even Tina knows. But…” Leigh thought about Verda’s children, how protective and patient he was with him. He was a father and he knew how to listen. She needed someone to listen. _

_ He nodded solemnly. “It will not leave the room,” voice resolute. _

_ So Leigh explained, not in great detail, but with enough explanation, her past. _

_ How Leigh had been in love with Bobby since her senior year of high school. How he hadn’t given her the time of day until her final stages of her master’s program. How stupid she had been. How in love she thought they were. When Bobby had smiled at her and she had felt seen, finally noticed. She had done everything for him, for two years. When he had proposed and her acceptance, her happiness. How only a month later, the phone call from her grad school with the rejection of her doctorate application, citing plagiarism. How she had gone home, devastated and confused and found her Doctorate Application essay, Bobby’s name at the top but clearly the one she had spent months curating, only having been changed to fit a Master’s program application. Her heart pounding in her ears when moans drifted through the walls. The sting of betrayal, the confrontation, Bobby’s cool indifference. The depression and anger, resignation and self-loathing. _

_ It had only been a little over a year. And he had come back, come to haunt her. _

Verda had been upset but understanding, offering her recognition and kindness. He sent her home promptly after. 

She had pulled out the bottle of wine, was halfway through before her mind glanced over the memory of laughter just that morning. Nate’s warm eyes and kind words, how they had guided her to the light. How quickly that light had vanished from her mind when Bobby stepped in, an all consuming void of anything good in her. 

She downed another quarter of the bottle in one pull. 

Shame gripped her gut, rattled her brain until the only thing she felt was guilt.

It was her fault. She deserved the pain, she was never good enough, never made the right decisions. 

In between sobs she recalled her Master’s graduation. Her mother’s proud smile. Rebecca had cupped her cheeks and said, “You have bloomed into the most beautiful flower. My daughter. I’m so proud of you.”

Under the weight of failure, of sadness and guilt, she looked at herself in the reflection of her glass, tipped on its side on the floor, remnants of wine pooled in the side. She looked at herself, withered, hollow, decayed.

The promise of tomorrow was gone. Only the chasm of depression remained.


	24. Enchanted (M/F)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia may or may not get the chance to attend a ball...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I write an entire fic just to be able to use a stupid joke that I thought of? Yes. Will I ever not overexplain in a fic? Probably not. Sorry not sorry! There might be a part two? Maybe later?

Practically every young girl’s dream is to attend a ball. Between the dresses, the dancing, and the romantic tension between partners…

Mia was unable to contain the squeal of joy when Rebecca announced their next mission.

“A ball? Like a certified, ballroom gown, dancing and all the works, ball?” she questioned, voice rising several octaves. Morgan plugged her ears with her palms.

“Watch the pitch!” she hissed.

Mia gave a half-smile in apology before twisting back to Rebecca, who honestly looked the most put out of all of them. 

“Yes,” she sighed. “It’s a logistical nightmare, but the Agency has it on good confirmation that this ball is a front for a trapper auction.”

All of the excitement drained out of Mia. “Holy shit,” she whispered. Ava leaned forward and slid the file across the table to where Mia and Felix sat. Her eyes scanned over the information, bile rising in her throat.

The profile was truly hideous, supernaturals in cages or glass boxes, their entire existence confined to the smallest space their body would allow. Pictures of wounds and beaten creatures, cowering before the camera. 

“How did the Agency get these?” Felix asked, voice hoarse.

“Agency contact. Someone has been drifting in the right circles and got word of a ‘unique auction’, where they managed to secure a key for entry. They all but threw it at me,” Rebecca’s voice trailed off a bit and she rubbed at her arm. “They will be able to get us in, but it is our job to get the supernaturals out and subdue the trappers.”

Nate nodded grimly. “How many supernaturals are meant to be there?”

Ava cut in. “Nearly 20.”

“Fuck,” there was the hiss of a lighter after Morgan cursed. Rebecca glared at her disapprovingly.

“Unit Bravo’s mission is to infiltrate the… ball, and remain under the radar until the auction starts. After it starts, the team will go underground to reach the holding cells. Half of the team will free the enslaved, the other half will fight the Trappers and keep them at bay.” Rebecca added.

Mia scrunched her brow in confusion. “Why can’t we free them before the auction?”

Rebecca pursed her lips together. Ava filled her silence.

“The Agency isn’t sure on the exact location of the auction. We know it is held at the Marco estate, but the estate is quite large. Part of our job is to figure out where to go from the guests. The contact isn’t sure where it is, only that the key, or more apt, the calling card, will allow guests to be pulled away for the auction.”

“What is the calling card?” Mia asked.

Rebecca pulled it out from a separate file. It was a tiny bouquet of tightly wrapped flowers.

“Is that a corsage?” Mia couldn't help but smile. 

“What’s a corsage?” Felix asked, curiously looking at the green lily and baby’s breath.

“A corsage is a small flower arrangement usually pinned to clothing or worn on the wrist. Traditionally, men gave them to their female dance partners,” Nate chimed in, taking the arrangement from Rebecca before passing it to Mia. Mia handed it off to Felix, who was far more curious about it than she would have expected.

“Ava will be wearing it. She and her guests will presumably be escorted to the auction,” Rebecca said. “Ava, Nate, and Morgan, you three will attend the auction, where you will find an apt time to disrupt it and take down the Trappers.” Rebecca turned to Mia and Felix. “You two will be in charge of freeing the supernaturals.”

“What?” Ava and Felix exclaimed at the same time. Morgan looked bored and mildly amused.

“You are going to pair Mia and Felix together? On a mission?” Ava asked, incredulous.

“Perhaps I should go with them and Ava and Morgan can-” Nate started when Rebecca cut in.

“Felix is our infiltration expert. He has the best chance of getting as many supernaturals out in the shortest amount of time. Mia is too much of a target to attend the auction. She will assist Felix in the lockpicking and perhaps even the distraction of guards. Ava and Morgan, you both are the most combat ready and Nate can pack a punch when he needs to.”

Felix couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. “Another mission with the dream team!” He turned to Mia for a high five. Slightly bewildered, but excited nonetheless, Mia returned the high five.

Ava stared at them with a look that confirmed her doubts of their competence together. Mia ignored her.

“When is the event?” Nate asked.

Rebecca looked over them with a weary expression. “Tomorrow night.”

The meeting had ended with a rush of preparations. Maps needed to be examined, invitations secured, plans made. Despite the dour reasons for the event, Mia was nonetheless excited to pick out an outfit. 

Apparently, the event was a little less ballroom gown and a little more evening wear, but Mia was too excited to care. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had anything that would suit the occasion.

When she returned to her apartment to raid her closet, trying to decide if a slutty, slinky black dress or a summery maxi dress would be more appropriate, a knock sounded on her door.

Mia abandoned the sheer black fabric in her hands and marched to the door, only to find Rebecca behind it.

“Mum? What are you doing here?” Mia asked, eyeing the large white bag clutched in her mother’s left hand.

“Mia, may I come in?” she asked, voice wary.

Mia nodded and moved aside, locking the door behind them. She breezed over to the kitchen and began reaching for cups. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

Rebecca shook her head, setting the bag down by the kitchen island. “No, I won’t be here for long. Preparations will keep me busy through the night.”

Mia turned from her cabinets and looked at Rebecca’s face, her mother’s eyes darting anywhere but Mia, preferably on the floor. Mia felt a slight flush, embarrassed that she hadn’t vacuumed in several days.

The silence spread between them before Rebecca spoke out in a rush. “Mia, I brought something for you.”

Mia raised her eyebrows. “I saw that.”

Rebecca nearly flinched, face twisting with words she was unable to get out. “I know I wasn’t around much and I am very sorry about that,” she apologized. “I wasn’t there for you in your high school years, not there when you went to your first dance.”

Mia didn’t have the heart to tell her she hadn’t gone to the dance anyway, Analise and Bobby having made sure of that.

“It should have been a bonding moment between us. Me helping you get dressed up, you looking beautiful, taking pictures with your father…” her voice trailed off, tears pricking at her eyes. 

Mia stepped away from the counter to put a comforting hand on her mother’s shoulder. “It’s alright. I don’t hold any of that against you.”

Rebecca looked up to her with unshed tears and swallowed heavily. “I love you very much Mia.”

Mia felt her heart clench, saddened by her mother’s pain. “I love you too, Mum.”

Before the moment lingered, Rebecca flustered toward the bag at her feet. She hoisted it onto the counter and took out a long rectangular box, a smaller square box, and another smaller white bag.

“These are for you. I couldn’t be there for you then so I am here now. I know that it is for a mission, but…” she let her voice trail off.

Mia reached for the longer box, hesitating only a moment before lifting its lid with a gasp.

A long, eggplant purple dress sat between sheets of tissue paper, the color jewel-like against Mia’s slightly tanned skin. “Mum,” she turned her head, aghast. Rebecca motioned to the other boxes.

Mia reached for the bag next, opening it to find glittering pale gold heels. They shimmered under the light of her kitchen, throwing tiny rainbows off the large crystals that embellishes the top of the shoe. She nearly tore into the last box, breath catching upon viewing the contents.

Inside of the final square box was the most elaborately woven metal necklace and earrings. The necklace was curved and rigid, sitting up freely in the box, meant to encase the lower half of the neck in woven gold and glittering jewels. The earrings matched perfectly, dangling in an oblong teardrop shape.

Mia knew her fashion, and she knew that none of this would have been cheap. Far more than she could afford on her Detective salary.

“Mum, I…” Mia lost the words. “It’s gorgeous. This is so extravagant. I’m just borrowing this right?” 

Rebecca shook her head, one hand covering her mouth, corners just slightly tilted upward. “It’s a gift. Yours to keep.”

Mia sighed in disbelief. “Seriously?” 

Rebecca could only nod in response before Mia threw her arms around her, squeezing her tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered against her shoulder.

Rebecca took a moment before wrapping her arms around Mia. “You’re welcome.”

Mia pulled away with a bright smile. “Do you want to see me try it on?”

Rebecca flustered for a response but Mia scooped it all up in her hands and dashed to her room. “Too late! I’ll be out in like 3 minutes!”

The following evening Mia was all prepped and ready. It had taken her a while to get fully done up, mindfully placing thigh straps where the slits in her dress didn’t show them. They were up very high.

But she had her Agency weapons and tools ready, hair pulled up into a messy but elegant bun, allowing a few curled strands of hair to frame her face.

And she waited.

Unit Bravo was meant to come pick her up at her apartment where they would all drive out to the location, about an hour away. With Ava driving, perhaps less than an hour.

Mia rapped her nails on her kitchen counter, slumping over while she waited. Her heart beat with anticipation. Not only was it her first ball, her first undercover mission, but it was also the first time Felix would get the chance to see her all done up. It wasn’t too long after the incident with the maa-alused, and they had been pretty preoccupied with other things for them to get the chance to go out and do something fancy. 

She was snapped out of her thoughts by quick knocks on her door. She straightened in alarm, crossing the distance in a couple of strides as she pulled the door open to Felix. Both of them inhaled sharply at the sight of the other.

Felix wore a black patterned suit jacket with purple embellishments in the faint design of flowers. The suit was threaded with gold, the stark contrast only brightening the amber of his eyes. He had forgone a hat this evening, hair styled up coils still loose and soft on his head. His eyes were wide as he took in Mia, standing tall with the flash of her legs through the slit of her dress grabbing his attention for several long moments. His eyes flashed up to where the necklace sat on her neck, the collar-like style perfectly obscuring the scar on her neck. Finally, he met her eyes. His were blown wide, mouth slightly agape as he took her in.

“Wow,” he said, nearly breathless.

Mia took hold of one arm, hiding her shyness with a grin. “Wow yourself. You look…”

“Heavenly,” Felix breathed, finishing her sentence with his own thoughts.

Blood rushed to her cheeks. “I was going to say dashing but that fits too.”

Felix stared at her, stuck silent in that moment as they both stared at each other with pink cheeks. “What do you have there?” Mia asked, pointing with her elbow at his clutched hands.

Felix blinked out of his stupor and looked down. “Ah, shit. I totally messed it up,” he cursed and fumbled with what was in his hands before clearing his throat and bowing forward, proffering something to her. “ _ Ahjohnday _ ,  _ mademoiselle _ .” 

Mia heard the slap of skin from down the hall and turned her head away from Felix to see the rest of Unit Bravo walking up. Nate had his palm on his forehead and Morgan leaned up against the wall with a smirk and a cigarette between her lips. Ava looked distressed. 

“It’s _enchanté_ , Felix,” Ava said, exasperated.

Morgan scoffed. “Moron.”

Mia giggled and turned back to Felix who looked both frustrated and embarrassed. “Ah, sorry.  _ Enchanté _ ,  _ mademoiselle _ ,” he repeated, a little less suave on the second pass, bowing again.

Mia grinned and put her hand over his, giving it a little squeeze before taking what was in his hand. She gasped again to notice a small, if slightly rumpled, corsage made of lilac and baby ivy leaves, bound together by a golden ribbon.

“Felix, it’s beautiful,” she said, holding it in her palm. He straightened with an eager expression. 

“Do you like it? With all the talk about corsage stuff before, I thought I should get you one. Follow tradition, ya know?” He rambled.

Mia leaned in and kissed him, the action stunning him yet again. She breathed against his lips as she pulled away. “I love it.”

His expression turned dreamy before it brightened, lighting the hall like the sun. “Good! Nate and I spent ages combing the forest for stuff. Did you know that some ivy is poisonous?”

Mia laughed the same time Ava tsked and turned on her heel. “We are leaving. We will be late at this rate.”

Mia had turned to see Ava leave, barely able to catch the hint of a smile that played on her lips as she turned. Morgan and Nate followed shortly after, leaving the two of them in the hall for a moment more.

“You really do look beautiful,” Felix said softly, leaning into her and placing his forehead on hers. 

Mia closed her eyes for the moment and basked in his light. “And you look handsome. Better than any man I’ve ever seen,” she praised. She could feel the smile that lit up his face. He opened his eyes and watched them darken with a smirk.

“Do I look sexy?” he asked.

Mia blinked and threw her head back, laughing as she slipped her arm into his. “Yes, Fe,” she admitted.

Felix strutted down the hallway with her, preening under her praise as they walked to the car.


	25. Filthy (J/M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason decides to drop by Juniper's apartment and gets a proposition he can't afford to refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was inspired by a post on tumblr by @agentfreckles! You can find the post beneath here. HIGHLY recommend their work. I took a different shot with this one and kind of geared it more toward Mason’s POV. I like how it turned out! Not sure yet if I have a grip on his personality, but I think I am getting there!
> 
> https://agentfreckles.tumblr.com/post/632978958649032704/lol-continuing-the-shower-conversation-since

After months of knowing Juniper, Mason had developed the bad habit of dropping in unannounced. Well, Juniper thought it was a bad habit. Mason didn’t care so much.

He liked seeing her surprised face and getting to see what she was doing. No, that wasn’t quite right. He liked being in her presence more than anything. Wait, when had her presence become a factor? Mason couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he made the switch from trying to get into her bedroom to just getting in the room, but he wasn’t thinking about that right now.

Right now he was thinking about how Juniper didn’t hear him enter her apartment using the spare key she had given him (that he had tucked away on his person at all times but she doesn’t know that either). No, he wasn’t thinking of anything but her ass, in the air, in the tightest yoga pants he had seen on earth. Wasn’t thinking as much as he was appreciating. She lifted one leg up behind her and took a deep breath, looking underneath her leg.

Her eyes widened and she screamed before falling to the floor.

Mason couldn’t help the chuckle that rumbled in his chest, but he shut the door behind him and walked to crouch over her fallen form.

“That was quite the view, sweetheart. Care to show it to me again?”

Juniper groaned and rolled over, sitting up and inching away from him slightly. Now that he was in the room, he noticed that it was near stifling in the room. Humidity clung to his skin and already he was warmer than normal. Well, that could be for a different reason.

“When did you set up a jungle in here?” he asked, eyes roaming over to find a large humidifier, pumping out steam and several, new leafy plants.

Juniper sat back and leaned against the couch behind her, rubbing at her elbow where she must have taken a hit. Mason knew it would bruise and there was the slightest twinge of guilt that he had caused it. But for that view…

“I’m trying something new,” she said, eyes flicking to his. “What brings you here today? Do I need to help with something?”

A lazy smirk spread on Mason’s face. “I had a feeling I might catch you at a good time. Good instincts.”

Juniper leaned her head back onto the cushion, exposing sweat-glistened skin, the sight making Mason lean in just a bit. What he would do if she let him kiss there. The sounds he would pull from her…

He knew those sounds. Had committed them to memory after months of light touches, her pulling away and coaxing him to think about what he really wanted. He still wasn’t sure what he wanted, though he still hadn’t gotten into her pants. Just heavy petting and makeout sessions that left him hard and frustrated. But he was always back for more. More touches, more kisses, more laughter, more, more, more.

“Euck. I’m filthy. I smell like sweat. Sorry, Mason,” she interrupted his thoughts, scooching further away from him. He had barely noticed the salty smell. More focused on how it made her tight clothes cling even tighter to her body and made her skin gleam.

“I should probably shower, are you going to stay long?” she asked, standing up. Mason drew his gaze up slowly from her ankles to her thighs, to her ass. 

“I could stay longer if I joined you,” he said, looking up at her with a wolfish grin.

She wrinkled her nose. “When was the last time you showered?”

He didn’t smell, did he? What was with that question? It had been a couple of days. He wasn’t a big fan of how the water hit him, usually too hot or too cold.

“Been a couple of days. You offering to clean me up?”

She looked to her room but Mason could see her eyes linger on him in the corners. He watched red creep into her cheeks. “Sure.”

Was this a fucking fever dream? 

He lifted a hand to his ear and scratched at it, “What was that?”

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and kept her gaze off of him. She only didn’t look at him if she was really embarrassed. “I said sure. With a couple of rules, mind you.”

Mason was intrigued, blood pumping faster. He stood up and towered over her, looking down to try and catch her eyes. Was he shaking? “What are the rules, Juniper?” His voice was low and husky, drawing a shiver from her.

“The lights stay off, first of all.”

Mason had to bite his tongue not to remind her that he could see in the dark. But he could agree to that. “Alright.”

She bit her lip and the action made Mason want to pick her up by the thighs, hold her against the wall and bite it for her.

“No touching.”

And there it was. He tried not to visually react to the ice water that crashed over him, cooling the fire in his veins.

“Then what is the point of me in the shower with you?” Mason asked.

Juniper took a quick breath and looked up to meet his eyes.

“It’s about trust.”

Mason couldn’t decide whether to be upset or impressed. Clearly this was a step forward for them, but still, what had he done to make him seem not trustworthy?

“Do you not trust me?” he asked, voice carrying a hint of a growl.

She kept his stare. “I trust you, Mason. That’s why I’m doing this. I…” she trailed off and blinked a couple of times. “It’s my offer. You don’t have to take it.”

Mason would be stupid to pass it up.

He sighed but leaned down, further into her space. He could hear the hitch in her breath, the skip of her heart. Mason relished in the small reactions, how it was him that brought them out of her. He let his mouth linger by her ear and whispered. “Lead the way.”

A small, nervous smile crept on her face as Juniper walked to her bedroom, turning off the humidifier when she passed, Mason on her heels. She drew the curtains in her bedroom, lessening the harsh glare on his eyes. Juniper walked through the doorway of her bathroom, spinning on her heel and nearly bumping into Mason. She looked up from his chest to his eyes. Mason heard her heart race and blood rush to her cheeks. “You will need clothes.”

Mason smirked. “Will I?”

She pushed past him with hardly another glance and into a dresser by her closet. She pulled out a shirt and some lounge pants, the style of them different from anything he had seen her wear before. Had she been prepared for this?

“I’m not staying the night,” he said, the statement feeling wrong in his mouth. She stilled at the dresser, one hand still on the clothes. “Unless you want me to?” Where had that come from?

She shook her head, picking up the clothes and rushing past him into the bathroom. This was the most nervous he had ever seen her. It was… kind of cute.

As the door shut between them, Mason lifted his shirt off, kicking his pants off shortly after. There was the squeak of a faucet and then the sound of rushing water. Mason had half a mind to make a comment about the temperature, but the other half of his mind didn’t want to disturb whatever fine line they were walking.

“You can come in,” she called from within.

Mason shook out his hands, divesting himself of his last bits of clothing. As he pushed in, the bathroom was indeed dark, not even the light from her bedroom penetrating the darkness. Still, Mason could see almost perfectly. 

He stepped closer to the shower and she held out a hand through the curtain. “Test the water first. Is it alright?”

Mason smiled, soft and unseen. He reached out and slid his fingers over her outstretched hand, could practically feel the goosebumps rise on her arm. He had to really think about not reaching for what he knew would be near the end of her arm, but instead met with the water, pulling back sharply. 

“Too hot.”

“Sorry,” she said immediately, twisting the handle behind the curtain. He heard how the water changed as she ran her arms through it. “Is it better?”

He put his hand back in, the water still pricking at his skin but at a much more manageable temperature. Instead of answering, he pulled the curtain away and stepped into the shower.

It was entirely too small for her “no touching” rule, but her words rang in his mind. 

_ “It’s about trust.” _

Mason rolled his eyes and looked forward, the entirety of her body on full display. She was facing away from him, the soft skin of her back nearly brushing his chest. He looked further down. He had been staring at her ass before, but it was completely different to see it bare. His hands itched to reach out and pull her against him, closer. He looked up at the ceiling and willed his blood to go in a different direction.

The smell of her vanilla shampoo flooded his senses, surprisingly not overwhelming him. Instead, as he inhaled, it just reminded him of her. It was a familiar smell, one that he had come to enjoy.

She stepped forward into the spray of water and Mason watched as the suds rolled down her skin. Mason could only watch in pure torture as the rule echoed in his mind.

Juniper cleared her throat and looked over her shoulder, squinting against the water but still unable to see him. “Can,” she searched for his eyes and miraculously seemed to find them despite the darkness. “Can I wash your hair for you?”

Mason felt his lip curl in an almost sneer. “What about your no touching rule?”

She bit her lip again and Mason nearly groaned. “It’s not… It’s not that kind of touch.”

Mason smiled ruefully. “Are you sure about that?” The question was both aimed toward a “not-so-innocent” touch and about modifying her own rule.

She nodded and Mason wondered if she had remembered that he could see in the dark. Surely she wouldn’t have even allowed this if she remembered in the first place.

“Sure,” he relented and watched her eyes brighten a little.

“Um… can we switch positions?”

“Not my usual gig, but for you, I guess I can.”

She snorted a laugh but bit her lip again. She turned her body to allow him some more room to slip past her. He couldn’t stop his wandering eyes that slipped down the front of her body, over the curve of her breasts and down her stomach.

Mason was glad his body was turned away from her now.

“Can you, um, kneel?”

Mason released a wry laugh. “Asking a lot of me, sweetheart.”

“You don’t have to,” she bit out, but Mason awkwardly lowered himself to the floor of the shower.

The water ran over his hair and down his back, warming his skin. “What else-” his quip was cut off by her fingers running through his hair. He sat rigid, thought process shutting down, only focused on her touch.

Juniper’s hands were gentle, feeling out his hairline and rubbing in her vanilla shampoo. As her fingers parted his hair, they softly pulled the knots, an action he usually hated. She was slow and tender and nearly all of Mason’s desire to ravage her was gone under her ministrations. 

Her voice was small in the quiet between them. “Is this alright?”

Mason found it difficult to respond. “Yeah,” he rasped.

Juniper hummed softly and continued her work. This was the most time Mason had ever devoted to his hair, but his gut told him it wouldn’t be the last time like this.

“Close your eyes,” she said and Mason obeyed, tilting his head into the stream of water. It no longer pricked at his skin, no longer burned or cooled. The only thing Mason could feel was her hands in his hair. He couldn’t even try to tease her about washing the rest of him. He wanted her to do it for entirely different reasons than before.

Wordlessly, she pulled away and Mason felt the loss of her touch immediately. Wanted it back.

“I’m going to wash up,” she said softly, pulling further away from him.

Mason seized his chance. “Can I help? Not…” he halted his words, surprised at his own intent. “Innocently, I swear.”

Juniper snorted again, making the corner of Mason’s mouth twist up. “I’m not sure you have an innocent bone in your body.”

_ My bone is absolutely not innocent _ , he wanted to say.

“Trust, sweetheart.”

Even without looking at her he could see the gears turning in her head, weighing her options. He tried once more. “It’s only fair. You touched me, I get to touch you.” He added no lust or emphasis in his words, just pure fact.

“Innocent only?”

Mason smirked in the dark. “Innocent only,” he said, shocked at the truth of it.

“Okay.”

Something twisted in Mason’s gut and pulled in his chest. “Give me your hands,” she said, pulling something from her shelf of products. Mason’s eyes watched her movements intently, tracking the slight shake in her hands.

This was a huge step. As much as he wanted to touch her not-so-innocently, Mason couldn’t fuck this up. Not if he wanted to see where this would go. And he did want to see, wanted more than this moment. He had never wanted extended moments with previous partners before. Only wanted to chase the feeling of release before leaving in search of the next. It was never that way with Juniper. He wanted to chase the feeling of her and only her. Since meeting her, it had become all he wanted.

She put some sort of wash in his hands and turned, pulling her wet hair to the side and offering her back to him.

Mason reached out rubbing his hands over her skin. She was already so soft, beyond what he had imagined in his bed at night like a horny teenager. What did she do to him?

Her spine shivered but she leaned back into his touch and the sound of her heart pounded in his ears. He ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, raising them and running his fingers over every inch. She inhaled sharply as he neared her breasts, but he skipped around them, running back over her shoulders for the other arm.

“Mason,” she said breathlessly. The sound of his name on her lips went straight to his cock. He wanted her so badly. Had a feeling she wanted him too.

_ Trust _ .

Mason grit his teeth together and continued down her other arm. When he finished, he ran his hands down her sides and over her hips, stilling his fingers as she squirmed under his touch.

He slipped his hands down to the outside of her thighs and she stopped breathing. 

“I can finish,” she said quickly.

He wanted to help her finish, in more ways than one.

“Okay.”

He stood under the stream of water, watching her move to finish the work he had started. The work he ached to finish.

She turned again and motioned to move past him. Mason stepped aside, angling his hips away from her as she slipped past again into the shower. Mason focused on his breathing as she turned away.

“I’ll get out first. Um… thank you,” she said and stepped out of the shower, a brief wave of cold washing over him.

He heard her rummage around for a minute before she opened the door and walked out. It opened again briefly and Mason assumed she put his clothes back into the bathroom.

Was it distasteful to take care of his… problem, in her shower?

Mason hissed and turned the water to cold, rinsing away the soap on his own body before ripping the shower curtain open.

He found an extra towel next to his neatly folded clothes, the pair she had removed from her dresser next to his own.

Mason skimmed his hand over the lounge pants, surprised at how soft they were. Too bad he slept without clothes. But she didn’t know that. Yet.

He finished dressing and walked out of the bathroom to see Juniper, sitting on her bed with her arms around her knees, head between them.

She looked so small.

“Hey,” Mason interrupted and she jerked her head up, looking at him.

“Mason.”

“I’ll be heading out now,” he said, taking a step forward, watching her unfold from her position. She rushed to stand.    
“Wait!” 

Mason turned with a grin, “Changed your mind again about your rules?”

Juniper stepped up to him, chest to chest. She rose onto her toes and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, Mason. That…” she trailed off.

Mason swallowed despite himself. “Did I pass?”

Juniper smiled and Mason almost met it with his own. “Yeah.”

“Good. I look forward to your next lesson,  _ sweetheart _ .” This time he let the implications between them drip in his tone, relishing in the way her eyes fluttered for a moment.

She stepped away from him and smiled a little brighter. “I am too.”

Her hope hit Mason differently. As he exited her apartment, he found that he was a little reluctant to do so but satisfied with the result of what happened.

This had not been what he had expected when he had left the Warehouse today, looking for something to do. Even though he still hadn’t gotten where he wanted to be, something told him it was exactly where he needed to be.


	26. Past (L/N)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leigh and Nate share some... provocative poetry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... uh.... I did it. I have been writing for six hours to get 4k words... but it is here... I started this out with an innocent conversation between Leigh and Ava over Nate’s copy of “Fanny Hill”, but scrapped it this morning when I had an idea. Look, I love the idea of h*rny poet Nate. So this was born. Good luck, fellow readers, and thank you for the support!
> 
> WARNING!!!!!!! N*SFW AHEAD!!

Once it was offered to her, Leigh had decided to take refuge in the vast library at the Warehouse. Most of her down time was spent among the stacks of volumes, consuming the wealth of knowledge that they offered. She tried to split her time between supernatural research and pleasure reading, but often found herself leaning toward the latter. Especially when Nate was so eager to fill her reading lists with his favorites.

At some point, between the myriad of books she devoured under the soft glow of the lamps, Nate had begun leaving her notes at the end of the books he recommended. They started off innocent, simple congratulations for finishing the book with a recommendation of the next title. As their relationship progressed, stealing kisses between pages and glances in crowded rooms, his notes turned… provocative.

She would never forget finishing  _ Wuthering Heights _ by Emily Bronte and finding in the back:

_ If only your fingers would turn me on _

_ To the next page like you do _

_ Sitting beside me, pulsing and warm _

_ Can you hear my longing for you? _

_ I want to dive into your secret, place _

_ Between the folds of you _

_ My aching for your present space _

_ Every moment lights anew. _

The beast of a man dared to watch her reaction under a half-lidded gaze across the room. Torturous was her heart, pounding in her chest, the blood pulsing in her veins. He heard every hitch of her breath and only smiled, content to devour her response from several feet away. Nate caught her gaze and ran his tongue slowly over his top lip, fingers crawling down the center of his book before he flipped the page.

Leigh couldn’t breathe, her lungs failed to inhale under the weight of his stare. Her body was on fire, the flames centered in her core, lashing out to burn at her cheeks. She hardly remembered Ava, sitting in the distance between them, until her eyebrow twitched and she stood abruptly, turning to march out of the library. Leigh swore she could hear the mutterings of French curses and something that sounded a lot like, “ _ Insufferable _ .”

Nate could barely contain a chortle, the huff of his laugh startling Leigh from her stupor as she bolted up to search for the next book on her list. Thankfully, though her heart longed for the opposite, Nate did not seek her out in the stacks.

\--

Some time later, copious notes and poetry having been gathered in a wooden lock box, stored away between folded sweaters in the closet, she found herself again in the library. This time, Nate was nowhere to be seen.

She took a moment to reflect on how she had gotten this far. 

Overcoming her past was not easy. With Bobby looming in nearly every alley of Wayhaven, her past had literally crept up on her, making her squirm under his questioning. Feelings she had buried down for over a year came rushing back, plunging her further into an inescapable darkness. Unworthy, unloved, pathetic; the words a loop in her mind.

And then Unit Bravo appeared. Despite their brusque first meeting, the ray of light that was Nate shone in her mind even still, a prince straight out of a novel.

Or more correctly, a vampire lover straight out of a novel.

His kindness offered sanctuary, a beacon guiding her from the depths of depression. She forced herself to write off his kindness as only kindness, never something more. Leigh could never have imagined that her feelings would bloom, returning to life under his care.

Nate was quick to encourage and be honest, with himself and others. It was refreshing, a glass of water when she had been dying in a desert. And then there was more. His hand on her shoulder, his fingers caressing her palm, her cheek, brushing over her lips.

Nate had awakened a well of emotions she had sworn to never return to, had never thought it possible after what had happened with Bobby.

His smooth words, kind and true, sunk into her heart, planting a seed of hope, of something  _ more  _ with him.

The amount of times they had almost kissed was excruciating.

It was hard for her to be honest with herself, with what she wanted. And then he had asked her for something more, on top of the ferris wheel, memory fresh as if it was yesterday.

She could still feel his lips on hers, smooth and light, hungry but never taking what she wouldn’t give. And she would give if only she could find the right words.

And then Morgan, “ _ The sooner you both hit the sack the better. _ ”

The memory of nights spent alone with thoughts of  _ him  _ beside her plagued her more than the nightmares of traumatic events of her past.

She had only felt this way about one other person, and god knows Bobby was undeserving of even a kind thought. But thinking about Nate was something else. It was a hope, a knowledge of his skin on hers, desire for his lips anywhere else but hers. The kiss shared between them in the doorway of her room was proof of the want underneath her skin.

They had kissed since then, in parting away from prying eyes, stolen between shelves, bodies pressed tightly together.

So what kept her away?

Leigh wanted him, more than she had wanted anything before, and in ways she could only express through poetry. Lost in the symbolism and metaphors of words not quite spoken. 

Nate had only recently begun writing her provocative poetry after a particular romp in the kitchen. One painfully interrupted by Felix, who cackled as he pulled a disheveled Nate away for a meeting. Where it would have gone without interference, Leigh could only dream.

Nonetheless, Nate had taken it as an invitation for more sultry notes, venturing at first to dream of her lips, the “fine seal of your hidden multitudes”. Then “the pillow-swell of your chest”, “glimpses of luminous milky thigh in the brush of moonlight”. 

Each one of them locked away, only for a night of particular weakness.

Which was how she ended up here a secret volume of poetry, concealed between the larger pages of a research tome as she curled next to the fire. She had developed a greater penchant for poetry under his notes. Had dug back into the reserves of her undergraduate books for poetry collections studied long ago. She looked for inspiration, ways to refine her racing thoughts into something worthy of his reading. She had already written her own poetry, odes to his kindness, his eyes, his tongue. 

They were also stored in the wooden box, locked away from prying eyes. She longed to be as bold as him, to one day show him what she had written. But it was too amateur. 

It was one weak evening where Nate had been out on patrol, Leigh curled up, warmth radiating from the fire and her skin. She was sure that no other member of Unit Bravo would disturb her. Only Ava cared to read much, but she was often preoccupied by other things. 

Now, her skin aflame, she ripped another piece of paper into a strip, scribbling down her thoughts before shoving it between the pages of poetry in her lap.

It started with a single note, torn from her trusty notebook, scribbled in haste and shoved between the pages.

“Let me be your student.” It read, shoved in the fold above Michael Faudet’s “Teach Me”. Her notes had devolved into pleas, imagining if Nate were to ever read them that he could understand with the words of another what she wanted. Marking passages that made her think of him, what he could do if she only let him. 

She shoved several more notes inside, a star next to “Kindness” another next to “Fate”, “Please” written next to “Unravel”. 

The fact that she was reading, had planted “Dirty Pretty Things”, her personal copy, between the leather bound spines of his poetry collection in a moment of weakness. He would never find it, but it still felt like a felony to meddle with his collection. She planted it there on a whim, something she could return to on lonely nights spent at the Warehouse, dreaming of him. Faudet’s words were precise but wanton, expressing feelings she struggled to put a name to. Surely, Nate wouldn’t notice a single volume planted between poetry collections he hadn’t touched in years. So she put out the fire, creeped over to the shelf and slipped it into a space low on the shelf, where his tall nature would be remiss to go. Then she slipped out of the library in the darkness, completely oblivious to the brown eyes that watched her every movement, having slipped in when she hadn’t noticed.

\--

Days had passed since that evening. How he hadn’t come across her implanted book, she could only thank whatever beings watched from above. She had returned to the volume twice since, pulling it out and using it as a guide for her own writing, still finding it lacking. Leigh knew that Nate probably wouldn’t care about her weak written prose, but his literary prowess was enough to deter her from slipping in her own writing to anything she recommended to him.

She was back in the library, this time for research purposes only, continuing her study of the supernatural. While looking for a book, she passed by the poetry shelf, eyes glancing toward her secreted volume and meeting an empty space. Her muscles locked up, heart seized at the darkness between Hafez and Bukowski. 

Her gaze flicked between all of the volumes, desperately searching for her secret text, coming up blank.

Her eyes widened and spine straightened at the heavy breathing at her neck.

“ _ Some nights I close my eyes and imagine feeling your lips on mine, your whispered words slowly pushing my legs apart _ .”

Nate’s low voice rumbled over her skin, nerves fraying as she shook in place. He knew.

“ _ Put your hands on my knees, she said, and think of me as a book you’ve been dying to read. _ ”

She didn’t know what was worse. The fact that she had been caught with secret notes she had hidden at a weaker time, longing for him, or the fact that he kept his hands from her, looming behind her like a shadow.

“Shall I continue,  _ mo fhlùr?” _

Her voice was sticky in her throat, breath shallow, trembling before him.

“Nate,” she whispered.

“Tell me,  _ ghaoil _ , tell me what you want from me. Tell me and I will worship at the altar of your skin. My tongue will confess against the lust in my veins. Speak and be my ruin, my light, my beginning and my end.”

Nate’s voice was a plea, a promise ringing in her ear. How he could twist his words into perfect melodies at times like this was beyond her. Her tongue was tied and her heart near burst at the implications of his words.

She had to speak. If she lost her chance because of fear, fear that had kept her locked up for a year under its control. No more.

“Ah-” she started and the gears in her head clicked into place, words she had long been forming coming to her senses at last.

“Arrest me with your hands,” she said, lifting her own from their place on the shelf before her. “Steal from me my words, with your tongue.” Leigh took a shaky breath and began to turn, knees buckling at the sight of him. 

He loomed over her, eyes black with desire, hands trembling under his restraint at his sides. Waiting for her word.

“Present to me the pleasure of your skin and I will lie, supplicant in your truths.”

Nate stepped closer, a low growl in the back of this throat. Bodies so close but still separate. “Do you want me, Leigh?” he asked, the question simple and heavy.

She reached for the truth and found it willing.

“Yes.”

At her word he ravaged her lips, hungry for her taste. Leigh reciprocated in full force, chains of fear falling away with his kiss.

His hands squeezed at her hips, pulling her to him without restraint. She panted for breath when he laved his tongue over her neck, pulling a moan from her, reverberating against the shelves.

Prickles of fear rose the hairs of her neck. “We could be seen,” she realized, breathless. Nate groaned against her neck, breath tickling her ear.

“I won’t let that stop me,” he said, hands ghosting down her hips to her thighs.

“My room,” Leigh didn’t have time to finish her sentence before Nate picked her up with ease, Racing them in a blur to her doorway where they had kissed so passionately before. The door swung open and shut, movements too fast for Leigh to process before she was lowered on her bed beneath him. 

He kissed her again, stealing the breath from her lungs, an ache that bloomed in her belly now an uncontrollable blaze. She reached for his shirt, fisting the flannel to pull him against her. Leigh writhed as he cupped her breast, drawing a groan as she ground up against him.

“Tell me your dreams so I can make them reality,” he whispered against her skin, his lips carving a path over her collarbone.

“You,” she panted, pulling his hips down to meet hers, desperate for any friction through the clothing dividing them. Why he had to wear so many  _ layers… _

Nate released a chuckle that turned to a moan, grinding his own hips to hers. “I’m here,  _ ghaoil _ , tell me what to do.”

She swallowed the heat in her throat, straining for words. “Clothes, off.”

Nate pulled away from her and she whined at the loss of his heat, reaching for him. He pulled the shirts off, one by one, a tease and a delight. 

His chest was bare, wisps of fine dark hair over his chest, then again near his waistband, delving down.

She wanted to see more.

Her hands went to his jeans but he caught her hands in his, placing soft kisses over her knuckles. “Your turn,” he said and pulled gently, causing her to sit up before him. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her t-shirt. A hand entered her vision. “May I?” he asked and she looked up at him.

Though his eyes were dark with desire, she could see the warm ring of brown around them, gaze only on her. Her breath hitched at his stare and she nodded, at a loss for words again. 

His fingers glided over her stomach, reaching down and under her shirt. She bit her lip and the shirt pulled higher, over her chest and over her head. With another hand, he flicked the latch of her bra, pulling it from her chest.

Nate inhaled deeply upon looking at her. She turned her head away from him, heat rushing to her cheeks. Leigh crossed an arm over her chest and Nate’s hand grabbed her arm, gentle but firm.

“Don’t, I want to see you.”

The words resonated within her, reminding her of times he had said that before, and once when he had gone back on that word. 

She allowed him to pull her arm away, nipples pebbling as cold air hit them. Nate’s hand crawled up her arm, reverent as he passed over her breasts.

“In my years, I have never seen a figure so perfect, deserving of sonnets and odes,” he said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on the top of her breast.

She shivered and arched upward into him, hesitantly reaching for him. He captured her nipple between his lips and she cursed, mind going blank. As her fingers passed over his bare sides, down again to dive beneath his jeans, Nate jolted, hand gripping hers and looking up at her through his eyelashes. He pulled from her breast and his breath over the wet skin made her hiss.

“You first, this time,” he said and kissed a line down her stomach.

“Nate,” she writhed, she needed more. Knew he had more. She was so empty and ready for him.

His hands glided underneath her pants, pulling the fabric as his palms ran over her thighs. Another burst of cold air made her shiver, the last of her clothing gone. Nate pulled back fully again, resting on his knees above her, greedily taking in her form. His damned tongue swiped over his lip again and he cursed, a language she didn’t recognize, when his eyes landed at her center.

Embarrassed, but her body’s reaction to him had been evident across her thighs. She rubbed them together to get friction. 

“On my knees I confess, to your desire, I succumb,” he whispered, able to continue to string words together when her mind could only think of one.

“Nate!” 

He parted her legs, burying himself between her folds with long, tortuous strokes, eager and wanting.

Unabashedly, her hands carded through his hair and pulled. His resulting growl vibrated through her core, a sound and feeling she would commit to memory, recite it alone and wanting.

In her 30 years, she had never experienced pleasure like this. Not at her hand or anyone else’s, drawn to a new level of euphoria unimagined, supernatural.

He worshiped her clit, taking her to the edge and pulling back, sucking bruises into her thighs that shook beneath his hands. His name a litany on her tongue. He whispered, a command against her, and she surrendered her pleasure with a cry, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Nate pulled away, wiping his chin dry and leaning over her for a kiss. Deep and full of emotion, she tasted herself on his tongue. Her arms were jelly but she still reached for him, a plea. 

“Please, please,” she begged, body soft and alight with new energy.

He smiled against her cheek, leaning in and kissing the hollow of her neck.

“Please what,  _ mo mhil _ ? Your mouth is capable of such pretty words, let me hear you.”

Leigh caved, desperate for his touch to set her on fire, his voice to soothe her fears, his cock to fill her emptiness.

“Ruin me. Tear me apart and build up my love with your hands. Make me forget everything but you against my skin, eternal,” the words rushed out of her on a single breath.

Nate stilled above her, “ _ Fuck _ ,” he hissed. The curse made her laugh, the first time she heard it sully his tongue.

Her laughter was cut short when his body left hers, away for a moment before he returned, bare before her. Even with the promise of his desire, Leigh stared into his eyes, reached a hand for his cheek.

“I couldn’t imagine anyone but you,” she whispered. He turned into her cheek, eyes closed. He lifted a hand to caress hers, turning to place a kiss on her palm.

“My heart beats a new rhythm in your presence. I have not known a feeling like it in centuries.”

She melted under his words. “I want to bask in your presence, know only your light,” she offered.

Nate leaned down over her, one last kiss as he settled between her legs. It was slow, lovely, everything she could have ever wanted.

And then she was full. Of him, of light, of love. Her head fell back against the pillows, a shaky moan escaped her. She could hear his measured breath, the restraint in his touch. He stilled within her, giving her a moment to adjust. She was grateful, he was a lot to take in.

Her eyes fluttered open and she reached for his neck, pulling him down and whispering against his lip again. “Ruin me.”

Nate captured her lips and thrust, sparks exploding under her skin, the fire burning her from within. She bit her lip and Nate kissed at the scar on her throat, whispering ancient languages on her skin. At another time she might have been able to translate them, but her only thoughts were of him, complete and whole.

The fire within her blazed all too quickly. She rocked her hips to meet his thrusts, crying his name, digging her nails into his back.

Nate groaned as she raked them down his back, pain fading to pleasure and healing in an instant. 

She wouldn’t last under his attention, under his affection. “Nate, Nate, I’m-” she gasped, shrieking on a particularly placed thrust.

Nate growled above her. “Come,  _ ghaoil _ , fall apart for me.”

His gruff command brought her over the edge, body arching off the bed with a cry of his name. He continued thrusting, erratic and impatient, close.

“Inside,” she whined, body lighting up all over again, the only place she wanted him to be.

“Leigh,” he started and she fisted the sheets beneath her. 

“Nate, please. Inside.”

He pulled a hand down from where it lay near her head, intertwining his fingers with hers, chasing his release with abandon.

Leigh cried out, overstimulated, his moan drowning her in lust as he finished. His hips stuttered and she could no longer feel anything beneath her hips, only buzzing pleasure as she gasped for breath.

Nate collapsed over her, holding his weight off of her but drawing close. His breaths labored as he placed kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her closed eyelids.

Satisfied, he pulled out and rolled over, both of them breathing in the aftermath.

She felt him still next to her, rolling to one side with wide eyes. “Inside,” he said shakily. “I didn’t mean-”

She barely had the strength to answer. “It’s alright. I’m protected, I did,” her already red cheeks deepened. “Research.”

Nate fell back in relief, hand seeking hers again. “I’m glad. Apparently I cannot think straight around you.”

Leigh snorted, the sound crushing in her heavy chest. “You can think enough to weave verse into my ears.”

Nate met her jest with a laugh of his own, shaking the bed. “Says you. I am undone by your words. You do know that I will search for more of your poetry, now that I have had a glimpse. I will be unable to forget your words. What is it?  _ I lie, supplicant in your truths _ ? I shall have need of a journal to document your prose.”

She squeezed his hand in defiance, the action weak in the aftermath. The words again felt heavy in her throat. She needed to ask, needed to know, though her heart told her she knew the answer.

“Will this…” she trailed off, taking in a shaky breath. “Will this happen again?”

Nate’s thumb passed over the back of her hand. “I would be remiss to my own desires if I said no. But that decision falls to you, Leigh.”

She swallowed, the implication between them a bridge. “I would like to.”

Nate smiled, turning onto his side and leaning over her for another kiss, always wanting for her. “Good. I don’t think I can let you go after this,” he said, brown eyes meeting blue.

She smiled, matching his warmth with her own. “I don’t want you to.”

His smile brightened, illuminating the darkness that crept into her room. “Let me fetch a few things and I will return,  _ mo mhil _ .” He kissed her once more before his warmth left her, though still present between her legs. Embarrassment flooded her. She had been so shameless, so wanton. The embarrassment ebbed when she thought of his responses, the way he leaned into her desires and reciprocated.

It was enough, in the moment, to soothe her, heavy eyes folding closed as she waited for him to return. Knew deep in her heart that he always would.


	27. Unkempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The detectives all find their reasons to keep their lovers for a moment more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so. This was supposed to be drabbles. HA! 5.5k words later, here we are. All of these were ORIGINALLY based around the song "Make Out" by Julia Nunes, a fantastic song. Finding a reason to keep your lover for some kisses is a great excuse I am sure. But apparently, I can't make anything easy on myself. I wonder if you can tell which one I wrote first and which one was last. I also can't write anything not serious for Evangeline/Adam, apparently. And I can't write anything serious for Mia/Felix. RIP ME!

**Leigh/Nate**

Autumn in Wayhaven brought rain. From merciless downpours to soft mist in the morning, Wayhaven could get cold and wet as fast as it could be hot and dry in the summer. Leigh was grateful she had taken her car to the station this morning, despite the weather forecast predicting cloudy skies, she had lived in Wayhaven long enough to know the smell of rain in the air.

Thankfully, it had been a slow day, no need to leave the office, except for lunch, which was just a hop, skip, and a jump to Haley’s. Just as she was rushing back into her office, the skies opened for a deluge of the ages, sudden and violent. 

She closed the door to her office and released a small sigh, closing her eyes against the door.

“Rough day?”

“Ah!” Leigh jumped and swiveled around to see Nate, soft smile on his lips as he stepped from his spot near her desk. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, reaching a hand out to take the remnants of her tea from her hands.

She sighed with a smile. “It’s alright, just wasn’t expecting you is all,” she turned her face upward for the kiss he always greeted her with, short and sweet. “What brings you to my office?”

Nate followed her to her desk and placed her tea next to her, in the spot he knew she kept it. “I’ve got patrol duty today. Thought I would come see you before I entered the maelstrom.”

Leigh winced. “Seriously? Patrol in this weather?”

Nate shrugged. “Weather doesn’t stop work. Never has.”

The words stuck Leigh as very soldier-like. Routine and common knowledge. She supposed they were true.

“I guess if I had a police matter I would handle it in this weather too.”

Nate leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple. “That you would.”

She leaned toward him, seeking his warmth. “When do you leave for patrol?”

He smiled down at her, mischief dancing in his brown eyes. “Not for a bit. What do you have in mind?” The heavy suggestion in his tone made her shiver and blush.

“Nothing, really. It will just be nice to have some time to catch up. Warm up before you leave.” 

Nate hummed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “What a delightful proposition. How could I ever refuse?” 

They sat (eventually across from each other, Nate could not hold her shoulders forever) and talked about the week they had missed together. From Tina’s coffee fiasco with the Chief, to Felix’s next stunt in his laundry assault of Morgan’s closet. It was nice to have some down time (even though it was on the clock) to spend time with each other. 

Nate’s phone chirped and he sighed, fumbling with it out of his pocket. He turned it on, pressing buttons on the screen in an attempt to shut it off. When his pressing turned near violent, Leigh laughed and walked from her desk over to him, sliding the alarm off for him.

“We really should spend some time teaching you how to use your phone efficiently,” she said. Nate grabbed her hand as it retreated and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. 

“Why should I waste time with the phone when I could spend that time with you?” 

Heat flared anew on her cheeks. “We could still spend time together, but you would just learn about your phone while I am there.”

He smiled, grin verging on predatory. “I would rather learn more about you.”

Before she could stutter for another reply, he stood and shoved his phone back into his pocket, swinging his jacket on.

“I should probably get going. Can’t get out of the rain until I get in it.”

Leigh nodded and saw him to the door, wringing her hands together. She knew that work was important, it was important to both of them. But she fretted with the idea of him outside in the rain for hours. He had no doubt done it before, but now… he was hers, and she cared about his well being. 

“No crime really happens in Wayhaven when the weather is bad,” she said quickly.

Nate laughed and turned to her at the door. “Not a lot of crime happens when Wayhaven has good weather either, but that isn’t the point.” He leaned down and pecked her lips again, the action also routine, but lovely all the same.

“Surely Ava would understand if we pulled patrol for weather. We will be alerted if anything happens,” she tried again, more excuses for him to take.

Nate grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you, Leigh, for your care. But I assure you, I will be fine. Patrol hours are short today anyway. We have a meeting with Agent Meadows this evening.”

Her heart sunk but she nodded. Nate lifted his hand to her chin and tilted her face upward for another kiss. “I’ll see you soon,  _ ghaoil _ .”

She nodded, pulling at his shirt to keep him for just a moment longer. He smiled into the kiss, pressing one more to her lips before pulling back and opening the door. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” she repeated and held the door open. He walked to the front of the station and Tina, who stood at a file cabinet nearby, sipping coffee, tsked.

“You’re going to let him go out?” she asked.

Leigh nodded, eyes on Nate’s retreating form. “I have to.”

“Or,” Tina emphasized, “You could run after him in the rain, fulfilling both of our rom-com fantasies.”

Leigh turned to Tina sharply, but she just raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Losing time,” she sang.

Leigh was so weak.

She ran past Douglas who never looked up from his phone, a fact she would scold him on later. But that would be hypocritical, as she was shirking her own duties to run after her lover. Leigh threw open the front door of the station, stalling Nate who was at the bottom of the steps.

He looked up at the noise with surprise, concern etching his features as Leigh continued her sprint down the steps. 

She slipped on the last few stairs, falling without fear, knowing Nate was within reach. Never doubting him, his arms wrapped around her, staying her fall. Leigh used the momentum to grip at his shirt, pulling him in for a bruising kiss, one he reciprocated with ease. The rain drenched her clothes almost immediately, flattening her hair against her head, plastering it on her skin, some tendrils stuck to Nate’s from their close proximity.

“Stay,” she whispered against his lips, desperately pulling him closer.

Nate loosed a groan from the back of his throat. “Patrol-”

“An hour,” she pulled back and stared into his eyes, her glasses dotted with rain. “It should let up by then.”

Nate raised an eyebrow but his hands tightened around her waist. “Are you a meteorologist?”

She shook her head and pushed herself against him. “No, but I want you to be safe and warm.”

A throaty chuckle rumbled through him, warming her skin under the deluge. “And will you explain to Ava, why I missed part of my patrol?”

Rain dripped down his face, dripping onto hers and down again. “Yes. Please, just come inside for an hour more.”

Nate leaned down and captured her lips again, sweetened by the fresh rain. “Anything for you.”

(Upon entering the precinct, Tina and Verda sent them home, to dry their clothes, citing they didn’t want the floors to be slippery.)

**Juniper/Mason**

Juniper’s eyelids were heavy, skin still slicked with sweat as she stared at the expanse of Mason’s back. She still wasn’t used to this, him staying after a night together. At the start he was gone within minutes of them finishing, seemingly eager to leave her presence.

Over time, he spent longer in her bed before leaving. Now, Mason would stay through the morning, often pulling her in for a round two, bodies sliding together with just as much passion as the night before.

Though her curtains were drawn, sunlight gleamed through the cracks, brightening her room with its rays. Just soft enough to allow her to see clearly, but not so intrusive as to mess with Mason’s senses.

In fact, this was one of the rare instances where his breathing was slow, steady in sleep. She looked over the freckles dotting his earthen skin. The temptation itched at her fingertips, as it often did when she stared at his freckles. His were much darker than hers, more prominent across his skin. Hers had faded over the years, visible only up close. Mason on the other hand, his skin bloomed with constellations, freckles charting his own map, one she was eager to study. 

The temptation too great, she reached out and ran a featherlight fingertip over a patch on his shoulder, shocked that it didn’t stir him to movement.

Some of them were raised, braille under her touch, what she wouldn’t give to spend hours charting them, memorizing each location. 

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” he grumbled, voice thick with sleep.

A soft smile crept on her face. “I am. Your body is a masterpiece.”

His back shook with a chuckle, rumbling the bed. “Pretty words, inflate my ego some more, yeah?”

Juniper matched him with a small laugh, finger pressing a little more insistently as she dragged it over him. 

“What time is it anyway?”

She despised this question, a 50/50 chance of him leaving. “Almost 6:30,” she said honestly.

Mason straightened his spine, stretching his muscles, waking them up. Juniper watched his muscles shift, the sight teasing her.

“Shit. I’ve got a meeting with Agent Hawthorne in half an hour,” he rolled away from her, sitting up on the side of the bed. 

The sound of her mother’s name deflated her a bit, especially knowing the very slight fear that her mother pricked in both of them. No wonder he was eager to be on time.

But she was prone to her desires this morning, giving in at the slightest whim.

She reached out, one hand clasping around his wrist. “Stay.”

He turned his grey eyes to her over his shoulder, his other hand resting over hers. “More pretty words. I’ve heard these ones before, though.” His words weren’t so much a jab as they were a fact. She had asked him to stay a lot, not necessarily for intimate reasons, just wanting to be in his presence. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she really didn’t want him to leave this morning, even if it was just another few minutes.

Juniper resorted to more overt tactics. She crawled out of the covers and pressed her chest to his back, easing her warmth into his skin. Mason hissed when she pressed a kiss underneath his ear. “Stay,” she repeated.

She could feel the tension in his jaw under her kiss. “Making a convincing argument, sweetheart. Wasn’t that long ago you were the one running away.”

“Are you running away?” she whispered, trailing her kisses down his neck.

He huffed a laugh, low and mocking. “No.”

She raised a hand to tilt his chin toward her, he let her move him, so gently when he had once been so adamant, and she pressed a kiss to his lips. Mason reciprocated immediately, sliding his tongue between her lips, slanting and hungry.

“Spare 15 minutes, for me,” she pleaded into the kiss.

Mason would spare a lot more for her, he knew. 

He turned into her, pushing her down onto the bed, snarling when she ran her hands over his pecs, down to his abs. The question sat in his mind, why today? But he wasn’t about to question her sudden bold nature. Sparing 15 minutes… he could get a lot done in 15 minutes.

**Evangeline/Adam**

(What can I say to make you stay? Leaving back to the Warehouse)

Evangeline loved nights like this. The leaves were turning orange and the sun set earlier every day. She could wear fluffy scarves and hats, bundling up against the cold nights on the streets of Wayhaven. Her skin buzzed in the warmth of her apartment, heart full of happiness in the present.

Her favorite autumn nights became even better with the addition of Adam, sitting across from her on Saturday nights, drinking wine at her kitchen table. As their relationship progressed, he gradually began accepting her invitations for a drink at her apartment, under the condition that it was only a drink and that she would not get drunk. That was fine, she could hold her alcohol fairly well.

It was hard to imagine life without him now. Unit Bravo had permeated all aspects of her life and honestly, she was grateful for it. Sharing fashion with Farah (who had the best and worst clothing pairings Evangeline had ever seen), blissing out on the rooftop with no expectations with Mason, and of course, swapping stories with Nat, preferably ones about Adam. And then there was the man himself. The one who had been so adamant that she stay away, “for your own good”, he said.

Now he sat, reclining against the back of her wooden dining chair, a set gifted as a “make up” present after a particularly disastrous “fight”. That had been a story Nat could barely finish listening to, what for the details and the laughter that ensued. Adam lifted his near-empty glass of wine, swirling the dregs of it as he looked out her balcony window. Evangeline watched him and how perfectly he fit in her apartment, her life. She couldn’t help but grin.

“What did you think of today’s choice, Mr. Owaynofile?” Evangeline asked, her chin propped in one hand.

Adam raised an eyebrow at her, glancing from the corner of his eye. “Are you attempting to pronounce oenophile?” His lips slanted upwards and hers followed in response.

“How am I supposed to know you skip the o-sound? Honestly, English is so confusing,” she scrunched her nose in distaste.

Adam hummed a laugh. “It’s the only language you know, Evangeline.”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms with a huff. “Exactly! You would think I would know how to use it but they’ve stolen from so many other languages, I can’t keep up.”

Adam smiled and finished off his wine. Evangeline’s eyes eagerly tracked the movement, from his lips down his throat. 

“This wine choice is… a garden-variety,” Adam said, setting down his glass.

“Garden-variety. That’s like good cultivation right? Under the watchful eye of a good gardener?” 

Adam snorted a laugh. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

The quirk of his lips and aversion of his eyes told Evangeline otherwise. She straightened in her seat and leaned forward, fingers spreading over the linen tablecloth. “Whoa no. What’s the definition? Garden-variety is good right?”

Adam pursed his lips together, barely containing a smirk. 

Evangeline’s face fell. “No.”

He looked at her with a knowing expression, pity and mirth dancing in his eyes.

“No,” she groaned. “It sucked? Again? Come on! That’s like the third bottle in a row!”

Adam reached out, placing a hand on hers. “It’s alright. It was palatable. We did drink the whole bottle.”

She pouted, “I drank most of it. Now I know why you didn’t let me refill your glass.” She sighed and looked down at their hands. A time ago he never would have reached for her. Would have recoiled at the touch. Now it was so simple, so easy, so perfect. “How do you do it? Pick the perfect wine?”

Adam ran his fingers over the back of her hand, relishing in their touch for a moment. “I’ve had centuries to refine my tastes. You’ve had mere decades.”

Evangeline smiled softly at that, thinking about the future decades they had together. The thought of it confirmed her plans for the evening, what she had been debating before he came over. “I swear I will find a good one. On my own, one that suits your taste, Mr. Fancy Pants.”

“Remind me to ask Nat for a dictionary. I think some brush ups on common English might do you good.”

“Hey!”

Adam pulled away from her with a smile and checked his watch. “I better get going back to the Warehouse. It’s late.”

Panic flared like a butterfly in her chest. She didn’t want him to leave. Evangeline hadn’t executed her plan. She had been so wrapped up in their conversation that she hadn’t found the right moment to say the words.

Impulsive, she stood suddenly. “It’s not that late. Besides, you were going to tell me how to pick the perfect wine?” She asked, voice rising a pitch and words coming out too fast.

Adam eyed her with suspicion. “Evangeline, it’s nearly 2 in the morning. You need your rest.”

_ I need you to stay, stupid blockhead _ .

He stood, straightening out his shirt and picking up their glasses, heading for the sink. “I will see you tomorrow afternoon for our team briefing, anyway.”

It was all happening too fast. Evangeline had to skip over lines of planned dialog in her head. Too much, she scrapped her whole plan and went straight for action. If she couldn’t verbally convince him to stay and hear her out, she would physically block him.

Evangeline played defense and blocked his way out of the kitchen, bracing her hands on either side of her counters. A bold move and a last resort.

“What are you doing?” Adam was deadpan.

She knew she looked ridiculous, clasping the counters like a child. She also know that he could either barrel through her or be around the island in less than a second if he wanted to. But she knew he would never harm her. Her heart pounded in her chest, any semblance of eloquence fleeing her in favor of the truth.

“...” she mumbled under her breath, looking at the floor. It was too quiet and unintelligible that even Adam didn’t catch it.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked, crossing his massive arms over her chest.

This was not how it was supposed to go. But, she thought, things rarely went as planned when her and Adam were in the room. She released the counter and instead folded her arms over her torso, hands crossed over her hips. “I…. leave.”

He stepped closer. “Evangeline, speak up. What is wrong?” The concern lacing his tone was the final straw in her childish charade. She looked up at him, hazel eyes pleading.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Adam’s eyes widened a fraction and Evangeline backpedaled, the implication behind her words stark now that they were off her tongue. “Not like that!” she rushed. Well, yes, like that too, but they hadn’t gone that far yet. Hadn’t even talked about it. “I just…” Honestly prickled at her tongue. “I look forward to our Saturday nights. It’s just me and you, and it’s my favorite season and I want to be selfish.”

His eyes softened a bit, worry fading to understanding. “Evangeline, I will see you tomorrow, and we will do this again next week, yes?”

Evangeline fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “Yes, but,”

“But your rest is important. You can’t function on no sleep. We both know that.”

She deflated. “I know.”

Adam stepped forward and she couldn’t help herself, she reached out for him, walking into his chest for a hug Adam wasn’t quite expecting. Now was better than never. She had been putting it off for weeks anyway, hesitant to hear his response. If he was going to leave anyway, she might as well say it now, though she hadn’t necessarily wanted it to be like this. 

“You’re being awfully needy, Evangeline,” Adam stated.

Evangeline mumbled something else into his chest. This time, he reached for her chin and tilted her head up to look at him, silently prompting her to repeat herself.

Her cheeks were red, hair falling into her eyes, rumpled work clothes from the day still hanging from her. She had wanted to make it memorable. Dress nicely, pick out a wine they both enjoyed, say it over a shared smile. Though the circumstances were otherwise, Evangeline had never been so sure of a statement in her life.

“I love you Adam.”

He stiffened in her hold, breath stilling and face turning pale. “You’re drunk.”

It stung, his first response, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected. Evangeline rolled her eyes but tightened her grip. “I’m not drunk, Adam. I…” she took a measured breath. “I want you to stay because I love you.”

He continued to stare down at her, a deer in headlights while she fought to fill the silence. “I have for a long time. And I’ve wanted to say it for just as long, really.” She kept her eyes on his, willing them to convey her certainty. “It was supposed to be good wine, and then we would sit closer, and you would smile, and I would say it.” The words rushed out of her faster than she could process. “You don’t have to say it, but I wanted you to know.”

And Adam stood there, patient, a stone wall, before her. God, was this more painful than rejection?

Unable to take looking in his blank, green eyes anymore, she pressed her face back into his chest. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Stop.”

The words rumbled out of him, heavy and quick, arresting her speech. Her fingers began to tremble but she could hear his heartbeat in his chest, quick, panicked?

“Don’t apologize,” he finished. “Never apologize for your feelings, Evangeline.”

Her throat was sticky, behind her eyes beginning to burn. No, she wouldn’t cry, never in front of him.

His hold that had been stiff, softened as he ran a hand down her back.

“You’ve felt this way for a while?” he repeated.

She nodded against his chest, unable to speak. He wasn’t pushing her away, which was a bonus. 

“How long?” he asked, heart still racing.

She swallowed heavily. “Since I’ve felt it or since I’ve known?”

His breath hitched again, one hand tightening around her. “Both.”

“I realized it maybe two months ago. When we, ah, broke the table. Realized that the feeling I had in my chest wasn’t new. It had been there, growing since Murphy’s attack. It’s been a long time.”

Finally, a shaky breath released from Adam and he leaned his head down, placing a kiss on her hair. “I’ve been longer.”

Once the truth was out there, it wasn’t going back. Amazingly, neither of them backpedaled to fix their words, take them back. The truth was heavy and light and full and Evangeline’s heart was beating as hard as Adam’s. 

She finally found the courage to look up at him. “Longer?” she asked.

“A story for another day. But…” Adam sighed and met her eyes. “Evangeline, do you mean it?”

The question broke her heart, just a little. That he even had to ask if she was sharing the truth with him, that he didn’t believe her right away.

“Yes.” Her hands slipped from behind his back up the planes of his chest to brace herself against him. She stood on her toes to speak against his lips. “I love you, Adam Du Mortain. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, forever.” She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

Adam didn’t allow her to pull away, instead, fiercely crushing their lips together. It was an answer, a promise, acceptance.

He cupped her cheeks in his hands and bent further downward, deepening the kiss, pulling away for only a moment. The words seemed stuck in his throat as well. Evangeline found them first.

“Did you mean what you said? After the Trappers and Sanja?” She didn’t need to explain, Adam knew the exact moment. Had lived with an inkling of regret after whispering them in an opioid dream. Just like they had for her, his words rushed out. 

“Yes.  _ Tu omnia _ , Evangeline Windsor. I love you.”

Evangeline felt tears slip down her cheek, ones Adam tenderly leaned in and kissed away, featherlight on her skin. She balled his shirt in her hands and kissed his jaw, anywhere she could reach, whispering her affections over and over between kisses.

After entirely too long in the kitchen, Evangeline pulled away, heart light and bones jelly-like. “You can’t leave now. Please.”

Adam smiled, laughing lightly at their previous topic of conversation. “Not now, Evangeline. Later, but I am here now.”

Evangeline pulled him down and captured his lips again, no intent of letting go. 

**Mia/Felix**

Felix ran his hand through Mia’s hair, fingers rubbing through the shorn parts, carding through the longer strands. Mia closed her eyes and drowned out whatever was on the TV in favor of focusing on the feeling of his touch. His other hand was intertwined with hers on her stomach as she lay in his lap. 

Often they were bouncing off the walls, laughing or teasing each other, learning some new DIY from YT. Other times they lay like this, basking in each other’s presence, the silence between them welcome, listening mostly to each other’s breaths and heartbeats. Mia loved moments like this. Moments when their love was clear, not needing to be proven to anyone, unchallenged and open.

Felix’s fingers stilled and she opened her eyes, finding his face hovering over hers. A smile bloomed on her face. “Yes, honey?” she asked, pet name rolling sweet off her tongue. 

Felix leaned an inch forward and kissed her nose. “Just admiring the view, babe.”

Mia arched upward and pecked him on the lips. “Having fun?”

Felix’s smile was bright and easy. “Always.”

She bit her lip under his attention, thinking about how to shift their positions so she could smother him in kisses.

Her phone beeped once, a text message across the room. Felix sat up, looking across the room. She reached up for him, managing to hook a finger in his scarf. “Ignore it.”

Then Felix’s phone blared, a siren to indicate Ava’s message. “It’s Ava.”

Mia pulled, insistent. “If she needs us, she will get pushy. It’s our day off, hun. No phones.”

Felix nodded, looking back down at her with a smile. One that immediately faded to a groan when his phone blared again. Mia matched his groan and let go, allowing him to shimmy the phone from his pocket.

“It’s the group chat,” Felix stated. Mia’s eyebrows shot up. Ava in the group chat was semi-rare, not as rare as Nate’s attempts at joining, but still.

“First message was for all of us, meeting with Agent Fuller in an hour. Second message for us, you and me I mean. An apology for the intrusion, but yes, attendance is mandatory,” he read, light fading from his eyes as his phone whooshed, one more message. Felix frowned openly now. “Apparently I need to be there early.”

Mia snatched his phone out of his hands, ignoring his cry in protest. She typed out a quick message, “ _ No. We will be there in an hour. _ ”

Ava’s reply was near immediate, tempting Mia to chuck his phone across the room. “Not this time, Detective Fuller. Again, apologies for the interruption.”

Morgan shot in a text of her own. “Drop details about exactly what we are interrupting.”

Mia snorted a laugh and showed the screen to Felix, who threw his head back with a laugh that shook her where she lay on him.

“Think we should give her a show?” Mia smirked.

Felix’s eyes brightened again, “Oh, yes. I’m so happy you are my partner, Mia.” His tone carried teasing mirth, but there was a seriousness in it that made her heart flutter. 

Mia smiled deamily, “I’m happy you’re mine, Felix.”

After a moment of looking at each other she sat up, turning her position on the couch. “How should we do it today? Video? Photo?”

Felix sidled up behind her and ran his hands over her hips. “Photo’s fine. Quick.”

“Quick like you?” she teased.

“Hey! That better be about my speed in the field!” he flushed.

Mia laughed and started unbuttoning her shirt. “Mess up my hair, hun. And here, give me your scarf, I’ve got an idea.”

Felix ran his hand through her hair again, this time with less intent to soothe her and more to make a nest out of it. She slid her shirt off her shoulders, sliding the straps of her bra off her arm, though leaving it on. “Are you ready?” she turned her head and asked, finding him staring at the now exposed expanse of her back. She smirked and bit her lip.

“If only we had more time,” she sang and Felix snapped out of his daze, shoving his scarf in her hand. Mia pulled up the camera on his phone and held it up, getting both of them in view. But she set down the phone, turning a little more to face him.

“What-” Felix’s question was cut short when she kissed him, sliding her lips over his with passion. He sunk into the kiss, returning it with fervor. Felix swiped his tongue over her lip, making her smile at the question he posed wordlessly. She opened her mouth, eager to reciprocate. Parting only for breath, they panted in each other’s space. 

“What was that for?” he asked, breathless.

Mia bit her lip and shivered. “Gotta go for that kiss drunk look, you know?” 

Felix nodded, the hint of a smirk crawling on his face. Mia faced back forward and flipped the camera back on, artfully draping his scarf over her “bare” chest, displaying a hickey from earlier in the day. Felix, hands on her hips behind her, smirked at the camera and Mia bit her lip, peeking her gaze toward him and taking the picture. They both looked intently at the photo, artfully displaying their faux-romp, mid-interruption. 

Mia sent it off immediately, smiling as chat bubbles appeared quickly. Morgan’s “Nice.” Ava’s, “Inappropriate, Detective.” Even Nate’s chat bubble popped up, but she wasn’t going to wait to see his reply. Mia dropped the phone on the couch, both of them cackling against each other. 

Mia leaned back into Felix’s arms, smiling in his light. 

“Do we really have to go?” Felix asked softly.

She hummed sadly. “I believe so. Dumb that you have to go early. I wonder why.”

Felix sighed, letting her go. Mia began buttoning up her shirt again, pulling her hair back from her face. He moved from behind her and stood, stretching from sitting for so long. 

Mia stood and stretched as well, her shirt hiking up, Felix’s eyes fixed on the exposed skin again. 

Mia looked at him and smiled, hiking her shirt higher on her hips. “Will you always stare at my bare skin?”

“Yeah,” he said honestly, immediately. He shook his head and grabbed his beanie from the table, slinging it back on his head. Mia grabbed her phone and began fiddling with it. “Can you be a little late? Just a little bit?” she asked.

Felix groaned but stepped toward the door. “Ava’s probably already pissed about the picture. Better not make her more upset.”

Mia nodded and hit a button on her phone, looking up at Felix as he reached for the door.    
“Not even for this?” She sang, the chanting of a familiar song queuing up behind her. 

The smile that grew across Felix’s face was nothing short of brilliant. Mia matched it with her own and belted out, “I can’t stop this feelin’, deep inside of me,” she ran her hands down her chest. “Hooked on a Feeling” blasted from her television speakers, projected from her phone to blare in her apartment. They had discovered this song listening to Wayhaven’s one radio station, both falling in love with the iconic beat and funky vibes immediately. It was added to their playlist of songs that they both treasured and played for various reasons when they were together. Today, Mia was using it as a weapon against Felix’s departure. One that was working perfectly. 

“Boy you just don’t realize, what you do to me.” She began to shimmy toward him at the door, swinging her hips and chest to the beat. Felix turned to face her fully, hand dropping from its position near the handle.

“When you hold me,” she reached for him, draping his arms over her shoulders. “In your arms so tight, you let me know, everything’s alright.”

Felix leaned his forehead down to meet hers and she whispered more than sang, “I’m, hooked on a feeling.”

They both abandoned the lyrics in favor of a kiss, deep and passionate. Blue Suede continued on singing in her speakers but they were none the wiser, too tuned into each other to care about the song or the impending scolding they were going to get from Ava. 

“ _ High on believin’ _ ,  _ that you’re in love with me~ _ ”


	28. Vengeance (E/A)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On top of a stressful day, lay a broken table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where my Evangeline/Adam simps at!!! I can’t stop!!! I love them!!!!! So much!!!

Evangeline did not keep many gifts from her mother. When she was in high school, on the rare occasions Rebecca was home, she would offer Evangeline clothes. The clothes never fit, always a size too small or too large, in styles she never wore with graphics she never liked. Evangeline would accept them out of obligation but pass them off to friends who needed them. 

She did the same thing with items as well. The backpack she didn’t need, a hairpin she couldn’t wear, even food she was allergic to (pumpkin and barley).

But, one of the few gifts she ever kept, was utterly shocked that her mother gave it away, was an antique wooden table. Circular, with four legs and a caramel finish, it had been built by her father, shortly before he and Rebecca married. Evangeline barely remembered anything from her time with her father, too young to make an impression, breakfast at the table was mandatory, every morning. 

The memories were blurry in her mind, the edges soft and colors muted. But she could remember sitting on Rook’s lap, reaching for dry cereal across the table, one of his arms bracing her in place. His voice, deep but incoherent in her mind, a laugh that was clear as a bell. It was one of the few things she inherited from him. Though hers came less frequently, it still had the sudden sharpness, an echo that trailed off to chuckles and giggles. 

She stopped laughing around Rebecca after Rook died.

Still, between nights spent at that table, reading and attempting to study for school, eating alone, carving her initials in the underside, it was one of the few things constant in her life.

When Evangeline left for college, Rebecca had given it to her, almost reluctantly, gaze lingering too long as it was hefted into a flatbed. Rebecca hardly had a use for it, with how little she was home. Strapped for cash and eager for anything free, Evangeline took it without question. Only later did she realize how great her attachment was for it.

It had already been a coronary-inducing day. The Mayor arguing with The Chief (again), forcing Evangeline and Tina to run about town, doing their bidding as they both argued over inconsequential decisions for a local town fair, Douglas getting chewed out by his own father, Evangeline getting chewed out by The Chief for not being “as present as expected”. And the icing on the cake was the frantic phone call from Ms. Haversfield, a widow on the far reaches of town, with a report of armed robbers breaking into her home, where she had barricaded herself and her grandson in her upstairs closet.

She had abandoned her phone at the station in the rush to the scene, finding, indeed, robbers attempting to break into her home. Though, they were armed with a crowbar and a pipe, thankfully not ammunition. And they were teenagers, high and looking for food.

The whole station had been called out for an armed robbery, all four of them (The Chief included). So no one was left in the rush at the station to answer the phones. Though booking the teens took minutes, conversing with their parents and doling out judgement under both the Chief and the Mayor’s supervision had taken a few hours. They settled on paying damages and hours of community service to the maintenance of Wayhaven. 

So as she pulled into her apartment, phone still untouched in the jacket slung over her bag, and noticed the Agency vehicle outside, Evangeline couldn’t be bothered to care.

Exhausted, starving, and ready to be alone, the thought of sitting through one of Adam’s tirades about “being available” was less than appealing. 

She knew that he sensed her the moment she exited her car. Could hear her heartbeat and footsteps, slow and heavy. He could probably even smell the sweat on her skin as she neared the apartment, pulling her keys out to open her door.

As if on cue, upon opening the door, Adam stood near her window, though not as she expected. She had been expecting her… whatever he was to her, to be standing taut, eyes stern, a lecture on his tongue of negligence.

Instead, she found him, standing in a cautious stance, with the broken table column in his hand, and for once, something akin to fear in his eyes.

She looked between his hand and her table, Rook’s table, her  _ father’s  _ table, in two pieces, the column with the feet in his hand and the circular tabletop, upturned on her floor. She could also see scissors and a glue stick, thrown aside nearby.

Evangeline was used to Adam breaking things. The corner of her desk, her plant, a windowsill, countless writing utensils and the occasional mug. But never, in her wildest dreams, would she imagine the table her father had crafted, the only table she had truly ever known, broken, and by Adam’s hand no less.

“Evangeline, I can explain.”

His voice hardly registered in her brain, the pounding of blood in her ears too loud. Red, or was it black? Creeped into her vision, suddenly lightheaded, from lack of sleep, food, a rush of emotions, she would never know. 

She could hear the words of her therapist, echoing and urgent in her mind.

“When you are stressed or angry, breath in through your nose for four counts, then out your mouth as slowly as you can. Repeat until you can think again.”

Evangeline took a measured breath.

She got to three before her reason exploded.

“What. Did. You. Do.”

Despite her slow speech, low through gritted teeth, her anger was evident, events of her whole day blinding any reason she could see.

Adam looked at her, green eyes wide, could no doubt sense the anger, rolling off her in waves. He raised his hands in surrender, an action Evangeline had only seen from him when necessary, confronted by a threat he didn’t want to harm. In doing so, the column fell from his hands, crashing against her floor, a single foot of the table snapping upon impact.

The sound of wood cracking filled her ears, louder than the blood pumping through her veins, louder than the whispered, “ _ Merde _ ,” from Adam. 

Evangeline dropped her bag onto the floor, contents spilling out onto the tile. She contemplated violence,  _ vengeance _ . Ridiculous against him, who could snap her in half, just like the table she loved.

“You weren’t answering your phone. The station wouldn’t answer-” his low voice recited, stopping when she held up a single hand. His logical explanations only fell on deaf ears.

This was not how her Saturday was meant to go. She was meant to come home, take a shower and eat a nice dinner with Adam. Share some wine and chat like they always did. 

She stomped forward, crouching to pick up the now broken leg of her table. The moment her hands touched the wood, rough and untreated by any finishes, “naturally raw” her father had called it, or so Rebecca said, the fury drained from her veins.

Her crouch turned to a kneel, a full drop onto the cold tile of her floor, leeching the fire from her veins, staring at the leg, loose from its brothers.

And instead of screams of anger, she only released tears, tears she hated,  _ hated _ , to show in front of Adam.

The man in question was frozen, unsure how to handle the sudden sorrow that crept from her suddenly too small form. He was used to anger, was used to it from all his years of fighting and being fought. Sadness still eluded him, normally made him blank, emotionless. But this was  _ his- _ , Evangeline. The one person he had come to show buried emotions to in almost a millennia, the one woman he had truly lov-.

What to do with a crying woman?

“Rook,” the word hit sharp in his ear amidst her gentle sniffling. “Dad,” pained with the tone of heavy loss.

It hit Adam what she meant. This table had something to do with her father. Her  _ dead  _ father. The one they never talked about.

“Evangeline,” Adam said, dropping to one knee before her, reaching out, hesitating.

She looked up at him then, broken table leg clutched to her chest, hazel eyes shining with tears, cheeks flushed.

She was broken, beautiful, tragically upset by his hand. By his uncontrollable hand. 

He searched for solutions in his mind, all of them gone in the wake of her tears. His traitorous tongue moved, “I can replace it.”

“No!” She shrieked, betrayed.

His blood ran cold, heart beating faster, mind racing,  _ how do I fix it? How do I make you happy again? _

Adam finally stretched out his hand, resting it on her shoulder, relief flooding him when she didn’t flinch away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Evangeline could count on her hands how many times he had said that to her. She nodded once in recognition. He opened his mouth to explain, explain how he had called, nearly twenty times, searched the station, found only her abandoned bag, the remnants of a people who ran away in a rush. How he had searched, unable to find any trace of her in town, entering her apartment, empty. More phone calls, fear, terrible, earth-shattering  _ fear _ , that he didn’t know where she was, if she was safe, why she had abandoned her phone. His Evangeline, gone. In a moment of weakness, of anger and terror, he lashed out, the old wooden table snapping under his fist. He had searched the apartment, looking for a quick fix, coming up only with a dry glue stick and pair of scissors to fix it, dialing Nat, moments away from dialing Agent Windsor when he heard her car. That dumb, beatdown silver hatchback, squealing into place outside her apartment. The relief when her heartbeat hit his ears, the mild frustration and fear at the broken table at his feet.

Before he could speak, even get one word out, she fell forward, rocking her weight into his chest. She inhaled deeply, four counts, breathing in the scent of pine, mint, laundry soap. The shudder of an exhale against his chest.

Adam finally wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as the tears dried on her cheeks. Apologies on his tongue, relief in his heart of her safety, security in their togetherness.

She inhaled again, “My father built this table.”

Adam stiffened again, dread punching his gut. Unable to put a voice to his thoughts, he stayed silent, hand warm and firm on her back.

“Rebecca gave it to me for college. The only thing I own from him.”

Her words twisted the knife in his gut. He never wanted to hurt her and he could hear the pain in her voice.

A single, wry chuckle, warm on his t-shirt, “Figures that it falls apart when I do.”

Adam tucked her in closer, smelling the salt on her skin. He only found three words. “You’re not broken.”

Another wry laugh, tears wetting her shirt. “I just want food.”

Adam pursed his lips together. “I can do that.” And he could, had centuries of experience cooking basic meals. Nothing like Nat’s fancy dishes, but it was edible and tasted alright. Wordlessly, he scooped her up off the floor, broken piece still in her hands, and placed her onto the couch.

The sounds of pans clicking, metal scraping, packages being torn open, fell soft on Evangeline’s ears. She had no energy to be angry, no more tears for the lost memories she never had. When she smelled food, warm and fragrant, coming from her kitchen, ease finally seeped into her bones. The day was over.

_ I am safe. I am home. I am whole. _

The words repeated in her head, tension slowly easing from her shoulders. Another phrase popped into her head.  _ I am loved. _

It was sudden, unexpected. She didn’t have time to dwell on it when a plate appeared in front of her. Adam stood, offering her a warm sandwich, cut into four triangles. She followed his hand up to his face and he was looking at her, eyes bright and rimmed with apology. 

She realized right then that she would forgive him every time.

Evangeline set the wooden leg onto the floor, taking the plate from him, diving into her sandwich, the first real thing she had eaten all day. With nutrients, her brain cleared, thoughts becoming still. She looked at Adam, who stood, hands behind his back, though she could see the muscles in his arms flexing. He was fidgeting behind his back.

Against all odds, a smile crept onto her face. He was trying. He was really trying in all ways to be with her, to make sure she was okay.

A question popped into her mind, mouth full of bread she said, “Will you help me fix it?”

The words came out a little more like, “Wil pip me ixt?”

Surprisingly, he translated flawlessly. “Yes, I tried, but I couldn’t find anything.”

She smiled again, brighter. “You couldn’t find the superglue and duct tape?”

His impossibly pale complexion paled further. “No.”

She nodded and ate the rest of her sandwich in silence. 

“Let’s fix it then.”

A bottle of super glue later, and some duct tape to keep it in place, they were able to set their glasses of wine on the table top. It was ever so slightly slanted to the right, but way better than nothing. Evangeline had broken out the wine after Adam had superglued his hand to the broken table leg, fingers adhered to the wood like they were meant to be there. She had been adamant that he not pry it from his skin, too worried about the potential viscera that it could create. 

She led him to the sink, laughing as she scrubbed his hands with soap to no avail.

Next was lemon juice, making them both smell on the whole better, but still, only seeping into the wood, glue still holding strong. 

“At least we know it will work?” she asked on a laugh.

Adam, who wasn’t very amused, still found a smile on his face, incredulous joy in his veins at Evangeline’s resilience.

Surprisingly, laundry soap was the fix, his fingers prying free, affected red area quickly fading to his normal pale tone, vampiric healing coming to his aid. Well, at least they had a story and she didn’t have to clean up blood.

So they finally ended up, sitting much closer to each other than they had ever sat at the tiny table before, Evangeline leaning against his side, draining her wine, stress of the day fading.

In the light of the moon, she looked up to him, moonlight casting shadows but illuminating his soft smile. She stretched her spine, straightening to press a kiss on the underside of his jaw.

Adam swallowed under her attention. She smiled and pressed another cupping a hand on his jaw. “Thank you.”

He flinched, minute but noticeable. “I broke it,” he said honestly.

“But you stayed,” her words carried weight in her heart. “You stayed and helped me fix it. Thank you, Adam.”

Adam loosed a small breath and turned, a chaste kiss on her lips. The words flowed out of him, natural and raw, “I’ll always stay.”

She knew he would.


	29. Veil (J/M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juniper asks Mason a question.

“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?”

“I can think of better reasons for you to be on your knees. And better things to beg for.”

“ _ Mason _ .”   
“I’m not going to a wedding with you.”

Juniper tightened her hands into fists at her sides, glowering down at the vampire before her. Mason leaned back on one hand, the other hand snuffing out a cigarette as she begged.

“Come on. _ I need a date for this wedding! _ ”

Mason sneered at the rising smoke, keeping his gaze from her. “Already gave you my answer.”

Juniper kneeled next to him, trying to get in his field of vision but staying a fair distance away from the ledge his legs dangled from.

“Mason, we are-,” Juniper hesitated a moment, weighing the words on her tongue. Then she swiveled her head around, ensuring they were alone before whispering, “ _ I’m sleeping with you _ . Can’t we spend an evening together outside of a bedroom?”

Mason’s eyes sliced to Juniper, narrow and hard. “Are you trying to leverage against me?” Though there was a challenge in his voice, Juniper heard the barest hint of appreciation at her boldness.

Juniper bit her lip. “Of course not. Sunshine,  _ please _ . I don’t want to go alone.”

This is exactly why Mason had not wanted to look at her. Her plump pink lip, drawn between her teeth and eyes bright, wide.  _ Fuck _ . The combination of her expression and her nickname for him pulled at something within his chest, something that tended to make him skew her way. Mason let a veil of indifference wash over him, concealing any of his inclinations from her.

Mason grunted, clearing his throat a bit. “Make it worth my time.”

Juniper’s eyes sparkled, ivy green gleaming emerald. “Anything.”

A twisted smirk curled on Mason’s face at her offer. “Be careful what you promise, sweetheart. I can do a lot with anything.”

Then that delightful flush that bloomed over her cheeks, quick and deep, Mason itched to make her whole body flush that way. Right now.

“Be specific about what you could do. Tell me what you want to offer,” Mason said, urging her to be vocal. One of his favorite pastimes was getting her to voice her thoughts, be honest about her desires. It stoked the fire between them, fanning embers to bright flames.

The flush creeped down her neck and Mason followed its movement intently.

Juniper swallowed and bit her lip again. He would bite her lip for her if she got closer to him.

“I could spend the night with you.”

“Weak.”

Her eyebrow twitched. “I could… service you.”

Mason scoffed. “Am I a car?”

Her fists clenched again. “What do you want me to do?”

“Be honest. What are you willing to do?” he shrugged, egging her on.

Juniper pursed her lips together and looked at him for a long moment. “Twelve hours.”

His interest was piqued but he kept his expression flat. He prompted her to continue with his silence.

“Twelve hours where you can do whatever,  _ whatever _ , you want.”

Now we’re talking. “Whatever?” he emphasized. She nodded. “ _ Wherever _ ?” he asked. Her eyebrow twitched again, but she nodded.

She must be really desperate to go to the wedding.

A smirk curled on his face and he reached out, lifting her into his lap, grip firm on her ass as she clung to him. “Mason!” her voice tinged with fear and excitement. Her heart beat faster, adrenaline spiking with the proximity to him and a deadly fall. Mason could breathe in the scent of vanilla and sugar, two things he normally abhorred, made enticing on her. 

“That’s a nice offer, think I’ll have to take it while it still stands,” Mason said, leaning forward and nipping under her earlobe, along her neck. 

“Does that mean you will go with me?” she whispered, low and sweet against his hair, gripping his shoulders lightly. She trembled in his grasp when he sucked at the pulse point of her neck, feeling her heart beat pulse under his lips.

“We’ll see in about twelve hours how I feel,” Mason said before capturing her lips in a sultry kiss.

She pulled back mid-kiss, eyes wide. “Now?”

Mason answered her with another, more urgent kiss and a hand sliding up the front of her shirt, glancing over the front of her bra. “Now.”


	30. Night (M/F)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix drags Mia out of bed for some outdoor time.

“Come on babe! We are gonna miss it!” 

Mia smiled softly, drunk with sleep as Felix dragged her through the forest around the Warehouse, sparse moonbeams cascading through the boughs of trees around them.

“Fe, I am pretty sure we can’t miss the moon. It doesn’t move that fast,” she said, Felix frowning back at her.

“ _ Babe _ ,” he whined.

“Honey, you dragged us out of bed in the middle of the night, and I don’t even know what’s special about the moon tonight.”

Felix turned and held her hand in both of his, imploring. “I don’t know either! But it’s big and it’s bright and Nate was talking about it all day!”

Mia looked at him with half-lidded eyes. “And did Nate say why the moon was special?”

Felix shrugged with a sheepish grin. “Something about it being blue?”

She couldn’t help but smile then, he was definitely trying. She had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t know what a “blue moon” was, but she would indulge him. And as long as they were together, she would always indulge him. “Lead the way then, Mr. Moon.”

His grin brightened and he brought her hand to his lips for a brief kiss that flooded fresh heat to her skin, helping to keep her awake. They walked through the crest of the trees to the top of the hill, with the perfect view of the “special” moon, cresting above them, casting an ethereal, traditional white moonbeam glow.

They stopped at the apex, looking up at the moon in the sky. Mia could attest that it was indeed larger than normal, but she could tell by the frown on his lips that Felix was not so pleased.

“When does it turn blue?” he asked, squinting as if his focus could shift its hue.

Mia leaned into him, curling into his body warmth against the chill of night. “It’s not gonna turn blue, honey.”

His head whipped toward hers so fast she almost fell away from him. “What?”

Mia shook her head against him, offering a sympathetic, tired, smile. “A blue moon means that it is the second full moon in a month cycle. Trust me, hun, I wish it turned blue. That would be cool as shit. But it stays, off yellow-gray, most of the time.”

She could see a spark of hope in his eyes. “Most of the time?”

Mia couldn’t find it in her to burst his bubble. “Have you ever seen the moon turn red?”

Intrigued, he wrapped his arms around her and stared down at her. The moonlight floated, near perfect behind his head, illuminating the edges of him, adding an almost angelic quality to his already painfully beautiful face. Her heart fluttered against him but he shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up at the sudden reaction.

“Well, sometimes the moon will turn red, or orange, and very, very rarely, the grey parts of the moon will look kind of blue? But probably not as blue as you are thinking.”

Felix looked up at the moon again and sighed. “So it won’t turn blue.”

Mia stood taller and placed a light kiss to the column of his exposed throat. “Afraid not, Fe.”

He shuddered as she pulled away and looked down at her, gold eyes gleaming. The juxtaposition of his amber eyes against the yellow-white glow of the moon was stunning. She was positive she actually lost her breath for a moment.

“Are you mad that I dragged you out here for nothing?” he asked, voice soft.

Mia couldn’t help the smile that pulled on her lips, small and sad. “I’m never mad at you, Felix. Especially not for wanting to spend time with me.”

Against his chest, she could feel his heart beat pick up, pulsing underneath her. “Good,” he said, more to himself than her.

For several moments, they stood, arms around each other and standing in the light of the moon, staring at each other in the darkest night. Eventually, Mia closed her eyes and swayed a little, thoughts slowing down in the calm that sunk between them.

Felix wrapped his arm tighter around her, steady and strong. “You alright, babe?”

Mia’s eyes fluttered open, blearily processing his words. “‘M fine. Tired.”

She was sure Felix had smiled down at her, but the world had gone fuzzy, just shapes and colors as her eyes fought to stay open.

“Well, I’m not that strong, but I think I can carry you back, if you get on my back?” he asked, and the words barely registered.

“You saying I’m too heavy?” the tease slipped off her lips, laced in sleep and lack of thought.

Felix’s response was immediate. “N-no!”

A slow, lazy smile tugged on her again. “Kidding, Fe. Turn around. I wanna nap.”

Felix complied, keeping a hand on her for as long as he could to make sure she stayed upright. Somehow, he managed to coax Mia onto his back, body even heavier with sleep, but he still carried her. “Hold on tight, spider-monkey.”

“I might be tired, but did you really just quote  _ Twilight  _ at me?”

“Maybe.”   
“Then take me home, oh sparkly one.”

And though she was already on the edge of sleep on his back, Felix couldn’t help the smile and skip of his heart at the word.  _ Home _ . Home with her. And it was.

So one step at a time, under the silvery light of the moon, bright against the black of night, Felix carried Mia home.


	31. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every Detective gets to spend some time with their loved one... with a twist!

**Mia/Felix (Pumpkin Carving)**

Wayhaven’s Annual Trunk or Treat was in full swing. As Mia and Felix walked, hands intertwined, through the streets, Morgan’s grumbling audible even over the squeals of young children. 

Mia turned over her shoulder and threw a sympathetic grin to Morgan. “Are you sure you’re doing alright, Morgan?”

Morgan winced as a small girl screamed in delight to her right, a fair distance away but way too close for Morgan’s hypersenses.

“Peachy,” her grunt almost a growl in the streetlight.

Mia turned to look at Felix, an unspoken conversation between them.

Felix took the chance to face Morgan, one hand on his hip. Mia mirrored his movement.

“Would it be better for you to patrol the outskirts of the event? Maybe being away from all the screaming?” Mia asked.

Morgan’s lip curled into a sneer turned smirk. “Trying to get some alone time? Not sure if I should stay to watch.”

Felix laughed, “Getting really desperate Morgan? Leaning to voyeurism now?”

Morgan shrugged, “I’m not above it.”

Another group of young children screamed and laughed ass they ran by, baskets full of candy. That seemed to be the last straw for her, Morgan suddenly rubbing at her temple with an icy glare toward the children.

“Don’t get in trouble. Ava will be up my ass if you do,” she said, turning her stare on Mia and Felix. 

Felix smiled and waved her off. “Me trouble? Never!”

Mia raised her hand in mock salute. “Only the best of intentions on Halloween night, I assure you.”

Morgan turned with a small wave, exiting toward the outskirts of Wayhaven. 

As she departed, Mia turned to Felix. “Let’s have some fun now, yeah?”

Felix raised an eyebrow with a grin. “Fun?”

\--

Not even a minute later, the two of them stood in front of a table with pumpkins, knives, and heaps of slimy pumpkin guts.

Felix cocked his head to the side. “What’s with the slimy goop?”

Mia reached over and grabbed a knife, brandishing it toward Felix with a twisted smile. “The slimy goop is the remains of our enemies and tonight, we carve.”

Felix picked up his own knife and looked to Mia for guidance. Several pumpkins were pre-gutted for convenience and Mia put one in front of both of them.

“The intricacies of pumpkin carving lead one to believe the need to plan, spend hours meticulously shaving and cutting into your pumpkin to achieve the desired design. And others-”

Before Mia could finish her sentence, Felix jammed his knife into an unsuspecting pumpkin with reckless ease.

“Others do that,” Mia sighed, watching as Felix relentlessly tore into his pumpkin.

Deciding it was better to not waste time instructing Felix on the proper etiquette of pumpkin carving, she tore into a pumpkin of her own.

Every time Mia leaned over to peek at his design, Felix shifted his pumpkin away, scowling and hiding his work. Mia shrugged and kept to her own work after three tries of looking, though she still stole glances of Felix hard at work. His tongue poked out, pink against the mummy bandages that fell from his face. Many of the bandages were now wet with a slight orange hue, victims of his pumpkin slaughter.

“No!” Felix shouted suddenly, making Mia straighten.

Worry pricked at her mind, thinking maybe it wasn’t so good of an idea to give Felix a knife and free reign, but when she went to ask what was wrong, Felix turned his hidden pumpkin to her at last.

It seemed he fell victim, as many novice pumpkin carvers do, to an intricate design, pushing through the wall of the pumpkin, causing only the vague outline of what had been intended to show through a gaping hole.

“What happened?” his voice was genuine, shocked, and childish.

Mia had to stifle her laugh. “Oh honey. It’s okay. That happens to nearly everyone’s first pumpkin.”

He looked through the hole in the gourd, pout making the gesture quite sad to watch. He then turned to look at Mia. “Did that happen on your first pumpkin?”

Having vowed never to lie, only to fib, she shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Sort of?”

Felix knew in her reaction that it had, indeed, not happened on her first pumpkin.

He groaned and walked over, leaning all of his weight onto her back to observe her work. “What did you-”

In the short time that they had spent working on the pumpkins, Mia had managed to use her knife to whittle away layers of pumpkin, letting little layers of light around a design of a heart, with fully sliced letters cut out spelling, “M+F”.

“Aww babe. You made a pumpkin for Morgan and I’s friendship?”

Mia elbowed him in the gut.

With a small oof that faded to a laugh, Felix turned his head and kissed her cheek. “Can we keep it?”

Mia smiled and ran her hand over the pumpkin, clearing away a strand of goop. “Yes, but we have to throw it away in about a week or so. It will rot otherwise.”

Felix nodded against her shoulder and examined her work. “How come you are so good at crafts?”

Mia turned and pecked his lips. “I’ve had a lot of practice. Now,” she turned fully and stepped out of his grip. “Grab the pumpkin and let's go get some candy!”

Felix eagerly snatched up the pumpkin and turned to follow Mia, the promise of candy and more time together a treat enough of its own.

  
  


**Evangeline/Adam (Pumpkin Throwing)**

  
  


“I am not competing in a trivial carnival game.”

Adam’s voice was resolute, firm amidst the screams of happy Wayhaven citizens around them.

“Adam, come on. It’s fun and you will be the clear winner by far,” Evangeline thrust her hands onto her hips, trying to convince Adam. The slightly too short dress of her stereotypical witch dress swaying with movement. Adam’s eyes flicked from the bare slip of her thighs between the skirt and the stockings before focusing on something in the distance.

“We have to complete our patrol. It is unprofessional to participate in leisurely activities while on duty,” he said, a small scowl on his face. The effect of Adam’s traditional scowl was lessened by the black makeup on his nose and cheeks, tiny cat ears resting on top of his blonde hair. He was downright adorable as Evangeline’s black cat familiar and a hit with all of the kids who looked up to him.

Evangeline only smiled in challenge. “For every excuse you find, I will find another reason to convince you. So let’s cut the ten-minute back and forth we are bound to have and just play. It takes like two minutes.” Evangeline angled herself, stepping right into Adam’s space. The moment the edges of her chest brushed up against him, she could see his green eyes widen in surprise.

He didn’t pull away.

“Please?” she asked, as sweet as the saccharine smell of caramel apples that wafted on the breeze.

Adam glared down at her, eyes narrowing for a moment. When Evangeline didn’t back down, Adam released a sigh and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Show me the game.”

Evangeline squealed her own noise of delight and trotted over to the game in question, Adam following reluctantly. Her witch hat bobbed on her head.

Before them was a small field, bare save for the dozens of smashed pumpkins that littered the expanse of the plain. 

“It’s Pumpkin Toss!” she said, turning to Adam with a bright smile. He turned his eyes away from her, his chest twitching under her lively stare.

“And you toss a pumpkin, I presume?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. The headband of cat ears twitched slightly, as if he was controlling it.

Evangeline nodded and turned, bending down to pick up a pumpkin nearby. 

Adam watched, rapt, as her skirt raised higher, but quickly turned his eyes skyward, muttering a curse. He had cautioned her against the outfit. Thought it was ridiculous that they had to match, let alone dress up at all. She convinced him it was mandatory for the event, and mandatory for all Wayhaven PD affiliates.

Adam only complied after she assured him his costume could be simple. He did not know that he would match Evangeline, or that her outfit would inspire… thoughts.

Adam sucked in a sharp breath as she straightened, hefty sized pumpkin in her arms. He did not miss how her right side seemed to overcompensate for her left.

“You lift the pumpkin and see how far you can throw it! The further you get, the better chance you have at winning the grand prize!” Evangeline said, walking toward the volunteer at the table nearby to register her entry. “Pick a pumpkin and come find me!”

She pranced away, happiness radiating off her in waves. Her enthusiasm for the inane holiday had been his main reason for agreeing to help patrol. She was so excited, animated like he had rarely seen, the sight of her smiling as she hung decorations in her apartment sent his heart into a torturous rhythm. He could not have been more grateful that she did not have hypersenses.

Now, he hesitated to be parted from her as she walked away. Adam glazed around and found a decent sized pumpkin, reasonable to hold in his hand, but not so small as to inspire weakness.

When he walked back up to Evangeline, her eyes widened. 

“What the hay, Adam! That’s huge!”

He looked down at the squash, brows furrowing. “It’s a decent size, but not unreasonable.”

Evangeline’s eyes flicked away, clearly debating their entry to the game as they neared the front. 

“Of course, I don’t have to participate,” Adam tried.

She fixed him with a glare and responded, “I’m just worried. Don’t… overdo it. We don’t want anyone to be suspicious.”

Adam raised an eyebrow at her. “I assure you, Detective, I am most careful with my abilities around others. I have been at this for a long while.”

Evangeline twisted her mouth but nodded, walking to the volunteer. She registered her name and stepped up to the starting line. 

Adam watched with great detail how she lifted the pumpkin above her head, leaning backward and launching it forward with a solid stomp.The medium sized pumpkin landed a solid 15 feet beyond her. It was a fair entry, most pumpkins falling short of 10 feet. But Adam could see several entries that extended past 20 feet, surpassing her entry.

She wiped her hands off on the front of her dress, turning to Adam with a smile. “Your turn!”

Her dress swished as she passed him and Adam stepped up to the starting line.

He eyed the furthest entry, and weighed the heft of the pumpkin in his hand. It was a solid size, but feather-like in his grip. If he chucked it at full strength, he could easily land it 60 feet or more away. He knew that a feat of that strength would be too abnormal.

Adam lifted the pumpkin back, calculating his trajectory with a keen eye before launching it skyward.

The pumpkin fell a little further than intended, but landed near exactly at 30 feet. Enough to surpass the others, but still give a particularly strong citizen a chance to win.

Adam turned, a small grin on his face, meeting Evangeline’s hazel eyes that shone with mirth.

She bounced up to him, happiness continuing to radiate from her. 

“Well done, Commanding Agent,” she said, stepping near him again.

Adam had to say, he did like how excited she was, a good change from the dour expression she had worn in the busy week before. He wanted her to be this happy always.

That thought fought against the walls he had carefully set up in his mind, thrashing at them with the hope of something more.

Adam schooled his expression to neutrality and watched the brightness of her eyes fade a little at his sudden cold demeanor.

“Thank you, Detective Windsor. Perhaps we should go back to parol now.”

Evangeline nodded once, turning but not stepping forward. When Adam stood by her side, she looked at his feet. “Did you have fun?” she asked, voice small.

In truth, he didn’t enjoy Halloween. Not like she clearly did. And they had only participated in the one even, even though Adam knew in the back of his mind she likely participated in all of them in years prior. Having watched her expression fade just now, he decided another white lie would be alright.

Did he have fun throwing the pumpkin? Not so much. Did he enjoy watching her radiance as they walked around Wayhaven? He would be lying if he said no. So he settled.

“Yes, Detective. Why don’t you finish pointing out other Wayhaven oddities as we finish patrol?”

Well that had been beyond what he meant to say. But the light that returned to her eyes when she suddenly gazed up at him was enough.

“With pleasure, Adam.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Leigh/Nate (Mask Decorating)**

“Are you sure Ava won’t be mad that we stopped patrolling?” Leigh asked, voice wary as they approached the blue covered tent.

“In years past, did you participate in any of the festivities while you were on patrol?” Nate responded.

Leigh pursed her lips. “Well, yes. And there have been no records of crime on Halloween in Wayhaven either.”

Nate smiled, natural and warm despite the chill of evening air. “It is beneficial for us to participate in the festivities to make connections with the locals. Besides, you need your citizens to know that you are not just a watchful presence that looks from afar.”

Leigh hated that his words made sense, but they still calmed her kernel of fear of upsetting Ava.

“Alright. So why this tent then?” Leigh asked, lifting a white paper mache mask from the table. The table itself was covered in smears of paint, clearly showing where children had painted and where their parents had been.

Nate shrugged. “All throughout history there have been records of masks. In jesters at court, in “The Masque of the Red Death”, and even in many different folklore legends. I’ve never made one myself. It shall also go splendidly with your outfit.”

Leigh looked down at her costume, an 18th century skirt of dark blue and white trim. The dark leather underbust corset hugged at her sides, supporting her back in a way she hadn’t believed possible of the garment. A simple white chemise was all she wore underneath it. Ava had not allowed Leigh to take a sword from the armory to complete her pirate look, but she supposed she got the point across.

Nate’s matching outfit had been a little grander, pieced together of fine clothing that may have actually existed in the time period. His long leather coat was a change from the usual layers of flannel and corduroy he wore, one that Leigh was happy he made. His rugged pirate captain look was doing all sorts of things to her nerves, things that she was sure Nate could sense on her skin.

She cleared her throat before searching for paint nearby.

“I have an idea,” she said suddenly, stopping Nate’s historical rambling about the symbolic nature of masks. “Let’s decorate one for each other. Make it a surprise.”

Nate’s lips curled into a smile. “That is a lovely idea. Any requests?”

Leigh matched his smile, staring softly up into his eyes. “No feathers please.”

Because they were indeed still on patrol, the pair limited their time at the tent to 10 minutes. Paint stained fingers and some sticky sequins later, Leigh presented a mask to Nate.

“Here!”

The mask had been painted a very dark brown, near black under the waning sun. Forgoing sequins and feathers, Leigh had focused on adding golden filigree to the edges, curling in wave-like patterns that reflected well a seafaring captain. It was simple, and really the extent of her abilities.

Nate lifted the mask to his face, securing it around his head. “Well? How do I look?”

Leigh giggled as he shifted in the light, posing. “Dare I say, dashing, Captain Sewell.”

Nate’s resounding chuckle made her stomach flutter. He then presented her with the mask he had decorated. “And for you, my lady.”

Despite being in English when he so often used other languages around her, the term “my lady” was also doing wonderful things to her nerves. She would have to find some cool air soon.

The mask in question was a royal blue, one that matched her skirt and highlighted the light blue nature of her eyes. Instead of golden filigree, Nate had attached several stick on gems around the eyes in clear, blue and green. The coloring reminded her vividly of the ocean, something she was sure he knew quite a bit about.

Leigh sighed in wonder. “Nate, it’s beautiful.”

“A beautiful mask for a beautiful lady,” he said, voice as smooth as ever despite her racing heart. “May I assist you in putting it on?”

He could assist her in a lot of other things if he kept up his smooth talking. A blush burned on her cheeks and she nodded. Nate’s fingers slid over hers unnecessarily, but a gesture she still appreciated with a shiver down her spine. He stood behind her and fixed the mask onto her face, fingers tickling her temples and cheeks. She would be a puddle if this continued. 

He secured the mask around her head and rested his hands on her shoulder. “Transcendent,” his voice whispered over her skin. “Befitting of a pirate queen.”

Her voice was shaky, “I’m a queen now?”

Nate spun her around, making her head whirl, but as he focused, he lifted her hand to his lips. “You always have been.”

It was official. She was collapsing to the floor. Nate laughed at her bashful expression, pulling her into his arms for a quick embrace. “As much as I would love to hold you in my arms for the rest of the evening, I am afraid that will have to wait until we get home.”

His words were as much a statement as it was a promise.

“Let’s return to patrol shall we?”

Leigh could only nod, words stolen by his affection.

  
  
  


**Juniper/Mason (Caramel Apple)**

“I don’t want to be here.”

“You’ve made that point already, sunshine.”

Mason still grumbled as they patrolled the outskirts of Wayhaven’s downtown Trunk-or-Treat festival. Juniper had managed to convince Adam to allow them to be on the outskirts to compensate for Mason’s hypersenses. Neither of them had been pleased at the accommodation, though Mason was at least less vocal of his distaste as he might have been if they were in the thick of it.

The festival was a highlight for the autumn season of Wayhaven and Juniper herself did enjoy Halloween. Though, the desire to be near Mason was greater than her desire to partake in the festival. And there was work to be done, patrol to be had. Neither her nor Mason were too concerned about crime on this particular evening. He walked several paces away from her and had been all night. He had been uncharacteristically distant this evening, not even a jab at the Mayor’s dumb speech at the start of the event. He hardly even looked at her.

“Are you cold?” Juniper asked, a chilly breeze washing over their backs. 

Mason grunted. “No.”

Yet another silence fell over them. They were well acquainted with silence, both alone and together, but this silence was different. It was… tense. She had expected him to protest the patrol for this evening, but she had not expected him to be less than enthusiastic that she was his partner for patrol. Normally he would make a dirty comment or have dragged her into the woods already. Not that she necessarily wanted that (not that she didn’t either), but he had been almost ignoring her for the last few days. 

They had been together for a while now, well as together as someone with Mason could be. But something had changed and Juniper didn’t know what. Things had been going well, Mason had relented and been willing to try something… more. They even went on a date last week! It wasn’t a traditional date, not really. Mason didn’t eat and was overwhelmed easily, so dinner was not really an option. Neither of them really cared for movies, so they (Juniper) had settled on a picnic date under the stars. She knew that Mason didn’t mind watching the stars, and the moon was getting delightfully full. It had been a nice night, spending time in one another’s company. Of course what had followed afterward had been nice too, but she would take the time spent together over the time spent  _ together  _ any day. 

And that was how Juniper knew that whatever had transpired between them was her fault. Had she pushed a subject too quickly? Was the date the most mediocre he had ever been on?

For a brief moment in the silence Juniper contemplated if Mason had ever been on a date. He wasn’t a dating type, and with his memory…

The compulsion to ask him what was wrong was weighing on her, a heavy stone on her back. And now, her curiosity was piqued. It was possible he hadn’t but he was also such a casanova that it would be a bit of a shock if he hadn’t.

She was unable to stop the words as they burst from her mouth.

“Had you been on a date before last week?”   
Mason’s steps stopped and Juniper turned to look at him. Orange leaves drifted to the ground around him, swirling with the autumn breeze.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure why she was disappointed though the feeling sat raw in her chest. 

“Did you think you were special?”

Juniper physically flinched. What had she done to deserve that level of indifference? Near cruelty? Hurt flared in her chest, searing and spreading. She looked away from him with a shaky breath.

She thought that he might have sworn under his breath though her eyes remained glued to the floor.

“I’ve been alive for a while. Of course I have been on a date. You have as well. With that dumbfuck of a reporter.”

The words hung between them and realization clicked in Juniper’s head. She didn’t remember ever talking to him about Bobby. Not that she was hiding that fact, of course not. It had just never come up. And how was one supposed to bring up that they dated the town’s only reporter for a year? That he had come back to the same town she did, within a month? It was a little suspicious, to be fair.

“Oh.” She wasn’t quite sure what to say. She couldn’t deny it, she couldn’t turn the table on him. It made sense now, why things had gotten tense. Somehow, he had found out. “Did you run into Bobby?”

Mason’s response was a snarl between them. That was a yes, then.

Juniper sighed. “You are upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

Juniper fixed him with a knowing stare. He was rigid, almost as rigid as Adam could be when he was upset. But instead of the icy nature of Adam’s anger, Mason’s anger was hot. He still looked composed, just stiff, on edge.

“It was years ago. Is that why you are upset? Because Bobby said something to you?”

Mason’s grey eyes sliced through her. “Why didn’t you tell me.” It was a statement more than a question. She really hadn’t expected this to bother him. She wasn’t even bothered with his history, as long as he didn’t bring it up often.

Juniper sighed again, something that was becoming common over the last few minutes. “It didn’t come up, Mason. I wasn’t hiding it from you. If anything, I was hiding it from myself. As you said, Bobby is… probably my worst mistake of a relationship.”

“Probably?”

His question shocked her. Not that Mason wouldn’t talk to her or question her, but this one was oddly personal. The way he phrased it was almost nervous. It was mildly endearing and some of the hurt from earlier faded away. Mason wasn’t self-conscious, but clearly something had been bothering him. Juniper knew of a way to salvage this conversation, she only hoped that he didn’t prickle and think her ingenuine. 

“Definitely. And our date last week was the highlight of my dating career,” she was tempted to continue but she didn’t want to lay it on thick.

Mason’s rigid stature softened a little.  _ Oh my god he is really going soft _ .

Juniper took a step closer, looking up at him through the sunset glow. “I haven’t been this happy in a long time, sunshine.”

She stood before him, close enough that he finally reached out and slung his hands on her hips. “Good,” he said, voice low. “With how loud you scream, you better be happy.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks and her eyes widened, tables turned. “W-what?”

Mason’s signature grin finally returned, changing the mood to a whole other kind of tense. Clearly, whatever odd air that had been between them the last few days had been cleared. “You heard me. Or rather, I’m sure your whole apartment complex has heard you. With my head betwee-”

Juniper shoved away from him. “I’m going to go get a caramel apple!”

Mason was at her side in an instant, leaning in for another quip. “As long as I get to suck the caramel from your teeth, I won’t complain, sweetheart.”

“ _ Mason _ ,” Juniper hissed and he only cackled in response, slinging an arm around her hips to pull her in closer.

The weight from earlier disappeared and her smile brightened. She preferred this Mason, carefree and sly. This was her Mason. And yes, she was sure that he would hold to his statement about the caramel, to her chagrin and delight.

Juniper leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked. “Glad my sweetness is rubbing off on you, sunshine,” she whispered.

“As long as I get to rub-”

Yeah. He was fine now.

**Author's Note:**

> God I hope I improve writing and actually follow through with this.


End file.
